Ravens and Roses
by memeologist41
Summary: Brenna Arvelo tries to move on with life after her mother's suspicious death, learning to live with everyone she cares about dying around her. When her long lost father reappears, he reluctantly offers his help. But how can Barney help her when intends to fully keep her in the dark? OC/Thorn Rated M for language and adult themes
1. Chapter 1

"I just don't understand why you didn't just ask me," my mother sighs, her iron-strong grasp firm on the steering wheel as she drives through the pouring rain.

"Would you have let me go if I had?" I muttered back, and gave her a knowing look.

"No. I wouldn't have. And then you got stranded in this torrential downpour. So I'd say karma's a bitch," she says with a laugh as she glances at my soaked clothes. I glance down as well, shrugging in agreement.

"I'll ask next time mama, I promise," I tell her, and she scoffs.

"Don't you 'mama' me, you're not out of the woods yet little lady."

I stare out the window in a quiet response, only imagining the horrors that was to be my punishment for sneaking out again. We hit a rougher patch of rain and she slows down. I frown at the acclimate weather outside my window.

"Mom, it's getting a little intense. I can't see a thing. Maybe we should stop somewhere and wait it out," I offer, but her grip on the steering wheel tightens and her jaw does as well.

"No. We need to go," she says in a determined yet anxious growl. I raise an eyebrow at her choice of words. We need to go? I glance in the back seat. There are two large bags packed. I gasp.

"Mom, what is going on? Is it Gabe? What has he done now?" I demand, looking for bruises on my mother's frame. If he hurt her again, I'll kill him. I nearly did last time, and it was a miracle my mom managed to pull me off of him in time. I'll never understand why she is with him. He never kicked me out nor tried to hurt me after the last time I busted his ass, I think we have a mutual understanding that if anything goes wrong, the other is dead. So we stay out of each other's way. I stuck around for my mom's sake, she begged me not to leave. Swore that Gabe wouldn't do it again, and he had just had an off day. But I knew he was trouble, so I stayed to keep an eye on my sometimes-younger-than-me mother.

"He has done nothing. He's out of the picture. We just need to get out of town. I'll explain everything once we get out of here," she stammers quickly as she starts to speed up again. My heartbeat starts to beat faster.

"Or you could tell me now," I demand in fear. She opens her mouth to speak, but as we pass through an intersection where our light is green, a large SUV speeds through toward the right side of the car. I open my mouth to scream, to say watch out, to warn my mom, but it's too late. The SUV hits my mom's side of the car with such a force that my head crashes through the passenger side window with a sickening thud. The airbags deploy and send my head backwards again in my seat, and I feel rather than see the car flipping through the air. Tears blind my vision as I feel warm, thick blood flowing down the side of my face. Searing pain rips through my body before we finally come to a complete stop upside down. I immediately look to my mom, to see if she's ok. But her side of the car is smashed all the way in, I don't even see her. I glance around, and through a gap of twisted metal I see her body in the middle of the intersection.

"Mom! Mom! Somebody help! Help me!" I scream as loud as I can. But through the rain, no one can hear me. Someone walks up to my mom, and kneels down. He checks her pulse and nods to the guy beside him. They both stand and walk away. I try to scream once more but my vision begins to go black, and soon I'm swept away into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

_Three years later…_

"Brenna, I just don't understand why you're making this hard on me. I'm just trying to help you," Dennis sighed, giving me a disappointed look. I give him an annoyed one back.

"Because I have no desire to set this up. I've told you this before I was of age. I told you this when I became of age. And I'm telling you this now. If he didn't want me back then, he won't want me now. And that's fine. I've got along fine without him, and I'm sure he's done the same. Why have you been nagging me for two years about this? Especially because you have not been my foster support for over a year."

"Because I still _care_ about you. You know, that thing people that share common interest goals do for each other?" I roll my eyes at his sarcasm and fold my arms. He sighs, exasperated. "Will you at least think about it? You don't have much going for you right now. You're trying to get into art school with like, two pennies to your name. Where do you even live right now?"

"With a friend. And I'll think about it. No promises," I mutter. He narrows his eyes.

"Where are you staying right now, Brenna?" He presses on, not happy with my previous answer. I see no winning situation here, if I tell him I'm in a hostel for the homeless he'll force me to meet my estranged father. I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration, wishing I had smoked that cigarette outside before the meeting after all.

"Fine. Scout it out. Let me know how it goes," his eyes light up with borderline cheer and nods. I get up to leave his office, but before I do, he clears his throat. I sigh and turn around.

"Thank you," he says, nodding to me. I nod back and continue my exit.

I get outside in the hot, sticky weather of New Orleans and whip out my last cigarette. The thought is dismal and bleak, and I had literally five cents to buy my next pack.

 _You could always quit._

I was doing so well for a while, but god knows life hasn't been easy. It never has been. And that's ok.

I really hope Dennis doesn't fuck up everything now that I gave him a yes. But what do I have to lose? I bartend illegally for a rundown bar and a boss that doesn't know I'm underrage. A boss that doesn't give two shits about his workers and his bar. As long as he can drink up his stock, he's happy. Hell, I've got away with stealing a few bucks from the register here and there. I'm homeless, broke, and alone. It really couldn't get much worse.

Lord knows Dennis tried to set up a life for me. But it all depended on a scholarship I didn't get. My art was too graphic, and "edgy". Maybe it was. Was that so bad?

I sighed and walked down the street, cigarette in mouth. I check my watch. I had three hours until work. And nowhere to be in between. So I began walking.

"No, absolutely not. This is no environment for a kid and she wouldn't be safe anyway."

"She's 20, she's barely a kid. And she needs someone to look after her, and I can't do it anymore. It'll take someone more than just me. She doesn't have any friends, any family-"

"And do you think this is some place to keep a young woman?" I gestured around the garage, and Dennis sighed.

"She's hit rock bottom, Barney. She's a sweet and caring kid. She's just had a rough couple of years. She needs stability," Dennis implored, but I ignored him.

"I made a clear decision to remove her and her mother from my life. In any case, where is her mother?" I asked, frowning at Sabrina's lack of parental control on her daughter. When she and I split, we agreed she wouldn't move too far away in case she ever needed to come back to me for safety. Lord knows being around me had its risks. It was only after that that I learned she'd been pregnant. And we'd agreed that it was better for her and the baby to have no affiliation with me. It was painful. But it was right. And Tool has been on my ass about it since, though he's the only one who knew.

I quickly notice Dennis and his demeanor change. He looks remorseful, and shocked.

"You didn't know?" he asks, his face ashen and apologetic. A sickening feeling spreads across my stomach and my heart drops. _No. Not Sabrina._

"How long ago?"

"Two years. I'm sorry Barney. I thought you knew." I had no way of knowing, we'd agreed no contact unless there was an emergency.

"What happened?"

"Car crash. Hit and run. Brenna barely survived," Dennis spat, clearly pissed about it still. _Brenna?_

"Her name… is Brenna?" I ask unevenly. Dennis nods slowly. It was Irish… or Gaelic I wasn't sure. Either way, I knew what the name meant. The translation was Raven. Sabrina found a way to make me her father after all. The thought made me nearly laugh. The argument that ensued when we learned of her pregnancy and how badly she wanted me involved was intense. But she knew in the long run it was for the best. That was the best thing about Sabrina. Was her kind, understanding measure on life. I never understood how such opposites found each other.

The cold, familiar feeling of death crept across my heart as I felt it slip one shade blacker. I hadn't checked on Sabrina in forever, I'd moved on long ago. But apparently the heart that I didn't know still beat never did.

"Do you want to meet her?" I look up. This is going to be such a huge mistake.

"Yes."

About twenty minutes later, we stand outside a rundown bar on the wrong side of town. _This is where she lives?_ I felt bad for the poor kid already.

We walk in, and instantly I can feel the tense atmosphere. An older, chubbier man is stood at the bar glaring at the two bartenders. There's a young girl with blonde hair behind the bar, clutching the side of her face in what looks like agony. And there's a taller, dark haired girl squaring her shoulders to the man in front of her. I notice a busted bottle in her hand, and she's holding it in a threatening manner. Dennis halts in front on me, but the doorbell alerts them to our presence. The man spins with a drunken smile.

"Welcome to Wiley's Bar! What can these two young ladies getcha?" he slurs in their direction, but the blonde is crying still and the dark haired girl is still just glaring with her jaw tense.

"Stop givin me that look! And stop with the cryin or I'll give you something else to cry about honey!" He roars at her, and rears the back of his hand in the air. The dark haired girl steps instinctively between them. He follows through with the motion and smacks her hard across the face. She barely jerks her head to the right, but her thick hair flies across her face. I step out from behind Dennis.

"That's no way to treat a lady," I grab the man by the arm, and throw him over my shoulder and onto the bar counter. The two girls step back quickly, the dark haired one still keeping the blonde behind her in protective manner.

"Dennis?" I heard one say, but I was too busy keeping the drunk man down.

"Want to explain to me why the hell you're bartending young lady?" I spin around to see who he's addressing, and it was no shock that he was talking to the dark haired girl. She looked so much like Sabrina. Same dark, thick hair, the same bright green eyes, same olive complexion. She had my frame, she was a lot taller than her mother was.

"I have to make a living, Dennis. Same way you do," she huffs, exasperated.

"I manage to do it legally. Why can't you?" Dennis argued back. I hold back a smirk at the hypocrisy of his statement.

"Not everyone has those options," she says through gritted teeth.

"You too?" The man on the counter roared. The blonde flinched.

"Yes. We're both underrage. And you're lucky there's witnesses in here now, otherwise you'd be dead on that bar counter," she threatens, waving the broken bottle in his direction. He tries to squirm from my grasp, to accept her challenge, and I grow tired of holding him here. I smash his head into the counter, effectively knocking him out. I turn to Brenna.

"Of all illegal activity you choose to work for this idiot?" I reprimand her. She scoffs.

"He's usually too drunk to notice I steal from the register. It's easy money," her eyes widen as she realized what she just admitted and bites her lip as she looks at Dennis. She gives him a coy smile, but he's fuming. He opens his mouth to yell, but I interrupt him.

"You need to leave. I wouldn't advice ever coming back," I tell the blonde girl behind the counter. She runs in between the three of us and makes her escape.

"Excuse you, that's my friend. Don't talk to her like that. Who even are you? Who is this guy Dennis?" She demands to him, glaring at me. Dennis then grins, almost evilly.

"Meet your dad, kiddo," he grasps her shoulder and her eyes nearly pop out of their socket. But soon, silence ensues and it becomes awkward. Dennis clears his throat.

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," he mutters. She rolls her eyes.

"Gee thanks!" She says sharply. She had her mother's attitude as well.

We stand in silence a while longer, sizing each other up.

"I would've come sooner had I known your mom was gone. I'm sorry," I started but she put a hand up.

"Save me the condolences. And I didn't expect you to come at all, so don't feel like you have to build any kind of father-daughter relationship from me," she mutters, turning her back toward a coat rack and grabbing her bag.

"Well good because I didn't come here as a father, I came here because I cared about Sabrina and I know she wouldn't have wanted you to turn out like this-"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware you'd even talked to her in the last nineteen years. So how would you know what she would or would had wanted. Hell, I doubt you knew she was dead until today," she scoffed, shouldering her worn, brown leather messenger bag. She was right, but I that doesn't also mean I wasn't. She turns to head toward the door.

"Maybe you're right. But I'm damned sure she wouldn't be proud of this. And you know it," I call after her, and she stops in her tracks with a hand on the door. She half turns toward me, and for the first time in the last five minutes I see a chink in her armor. There's a trace of utter sadness in her eyes, followed by vehement anger, confusion, and regret. It sweeps through them so quickly she closes her eyes briefly. It resonates something cold inside me to see the intense amount of emotion welled up inside her. She puts on a good show.

"It wouldn't matter what she's proud of and what she was. She's not here anymore. It's just me. And I have to look out for myself, and she may not have liked it, but she would've expected nothing less. It's what I've always done," she says softly.

"Brenna, I hate to ask this, but what happened the night of the car crash?" She sighs, but seems a little more willing to talk to me. Especially about this. She gestures to a seat and we both sit down across from each other. It's awkward, and the guys would laugh if they saw us now. She pinches the bridge of her nose in an anxious way.

"I had snuck out that night. I got stranded halfway across town, almost to the French Quarter, and she had to come get me. It was pouring, otherwise I would've walked all night to get home. She insisted on driving to get me. And-"

"So it was the inclement weather?" Just a freak accident. Unfortunate, but at least it wasn't anything to do with me. And as much as I have problems coming to terms with it, I really do still care for Sabrina. Brenna shifts in her seat, anger returning to her eyes. She sticks her chin out in defiance.

"That and a hit and run, according to the police report," she snaps. I lean over the table, interested.

"You don't think so?"

"I was there. I was in the car. I nearly died that night myself, you don't forget the night you watch your mom die and then nearly die yourself. As much as I wanted to… I couldn't." she shivers, as if recalling a bad memory. I could only imagine the horror she saw that night. I want to do something to show some kind of empathy, but I'm stuck remaining rigid and still.

"So what happened?"

"When I got in the car, the weather picked up. I suggested that we pull over, but she was adamant about getting somewhere. She wouldn't say where, but she acknowledged that something was wrong. I thought it was that asshole she was with, Gabe. But she insisted she had left him a few hours prior. And right as she began to tell me, an SUV hit her side of the car going at least 45. I was lucky it wasn't faster. It killed her instantly. Men got out of the SUV, checked her pulse, and then left her there. I have no idea why. I have no clue what my mom would've done to someone to cause that. The only conclusion I could come up with was that Gabe had done something, but he was clean. He was a piece of shit, but he wasn't a murder. Nor a criminal of any kind. He's too much of a pussy to do any of that, and too stupid to get away with it. So it's been two years, and I still have nothing," she finishes, her jaw locked and tense. I swallow in anger.

"And she never said where she was going?" She shakes her head. "Where were you? Do you remember the street you were on?" She gives me a look like I'm stupid.

"Murdoch avenue. I wouldn't forget," she mutters. I remain still, but I'm completely torn on the inside. Murdoch is a straight shot to Tool's garage. She was headed to me. This has something to do with me.

"What?" Brenna demands, obviously noticing something different about me.

"Nothing, I'm just trying to picture what happened. Do you remember anything else?"

"No. Why? Do you know something?" She perks up, suddenly interested in this conversation. My frown gives her all she needs to know. I know nothing yet, but that will change soon.

"I'm sure I could help you find out though," I offer. She sits back in her chair in speculation, narrowing her eyes just slightly.

"Why?"

"Because regardless of the absent role I played in your life, I still cared for Sabrina," I tell her. She relaxes slightly, probably pleased by the answer, and nods slowly. She rises from her chair, shouldering her bag once more.

"Dennis will give me your number. I'll call you," she says, but I hold up a hand.

"No you won't, and you're not staying in a homeless hostel tonight or any other night. You can stay with me until we find you a place to get back on your feet." She opens her mouth to object but I interrupt her. "I'm not giving you a choice here, Brenna."

She sighs, and suddenly smirks.

"My mom always said I had your stubbornness, now I understand how she felt. What's your name?" I smirked back, amused that Sabrina complained about me even after we parted ways. Christmas would endlessly give me shit if he saw me now, but ever since we've added the youngsters to the team, I've had a softer spot. Especially for the young ones. This thought worries me, it does to this day, because in the life we've chosen, we can't be soft. So I can't let this girl do that to me just because of Sabrina. Instead, I focus on now I'm going to explain to the guys why I'm towing around a young girl without them staring at me like I'm a monster.

I realize I haven't said anything to her yet.

"Barney Ross. Come on, Dennis will drop us off."

"How do you know him?"

"Dennis? He and I used to be… coworkers. Before he was into foster care," before he decided this life wasn't for him. She looked doubtful, but wisely held her sharp tongue.


	3. Chapter 3

A short drive later, down Murdoch avenue where I kept my eyes shut as we drove under the light I remember from two years ago, we arrive at a place called Tool's Garage and Tattoo. It looked to be a little on the rougher side, but not nearly as bad as WIley's Bar and Grill. It was a quiet drive, and we both sat in the truck waiting for whatever.

"So, there is something you should know," he says. I turn to him and he looks hesitant. "This is my friend, Tool's, place. I live upstairs in a flat above the garage and tattoo parlor. My friends and I… we hang around here a lot. So if you're a little uncomfortable with any of them, my flat is upstairs and just remember it's only temporary-"

"What do you do for a living?"

He pauses, and then says, "I'm a mechanic. So are my friends. But we're a little more than that, we travel around to different car shows, different junk yards around the states. People pay us to come work on their cars."

"You must be pretty good at it then, I've never heard of a traveling mechanic," I respond, just trying to keep the conversation going. The awkward silences were killing me. He clears his threat, clearly feeling the same way. We both exit the truck at the same time and I shouldered my bag.

"We'll go get the rest of your stuff tomorrow," he offers. I sigh.

"This is all I have," I mutter. He looks at me, bewildered, but doesn't say a word. We reach the garage door and he inputs a code, and the large metal door slowly creaks open. Inside, there's a large group of people hanging out and listening to music. Everyone turns at the noise of the door opening but all frown when they see me. I also take notice that they're all massive, and have been drinking. My heartbeat races a little faster as I glance at each one of them. There's an older group, about Barneys age, that consists of a huge blonde giant, a smaller but bulky bald man with cauliflower-ear, a dark skinned man cleaning two large cylinders, a man wearing a hat throwing knives at a target with another dark complected guy doing the same thing with seriously awesome tattoos. Beside him was a short, olive-skinned guy with a little more pudge wearing a cowboy hat, laughing at the two guys throwing knives.

In another group was a younger generation that looked like soldiers more than people. Everyone did honestly. There was a young woman that looked like she could snap me in half with her index finger, two guys arm wrestling and laughing around. And lastly a huge, tall guy leaning up against a pillar watching his friends with amusement. But everyone stops what they're doing when they see me. Barney clears his throat.

"Guys, this is Brenna Arvelo. She's going to be staying with me for a while she gets back on her feet," he introduces awkwardly. Everyone glances from him to me with unspoken judgement and concern. I roll my eyes.

"Relax. He's my dad apparently," I blurt out, and Barney looks at me in agitation. There's a few astonished looks, a smirk here and there, and then a general roar of laughter. Barney mumbles something about me being a brat under his breath.

"You're welcome, they would just assume the worst until you said something."

"Don't worry sweetheart, we weren't thinking _that_. He couldn't get a lady if he tried. We were more worried he kidnapped you," the man in the cowboy hat said with a warm twinkle in his eyes. For the first time all day, an actual smile appeared on my face. Barney narrowed his eyes at him, his face red as a tomato.

"Right well, your room is upstairs right below my flat. It's huge, you get your own bathroom too. Only thing is that the kitchen is downstairs but I don't have one either so we all just use the garages," he starts to head up the stairs to the left and I follow him, eager to get away from all the eyes staring at me.

"I thought you said I'd be staying in your flat?"

He grimaces.

"I figured you'd be more comfortable in your own space," he says. In other words, he's more comfortable keeping me at arm's distance. Nice.

We reach the top of the stairs and he gestures to a large room with a bathroom to the right and a metal staircase to the left.

"The stairs lead to an upstairs room. Also yours."

"Sweet. I don't like hand outs, so I plan on being out of here as soon as possible. I won't be in your hair long," I reassure him, so he doesn't just kick me out randomly. His eyes flash with regret, but he turns his back to me.

"I'll let you get settled in," and then he walks off. I blow my hair out my face and turn away as well. He was going to be a handful, and not only that, but I'm sure I was a greater burden to him. In fact, I'm positive.

The familiar feeling of feeling unwelcome spreads across my heart, and I feel like sinking to the floor and crying. But like always, I swallow up the emotion and put it away. There's no use in feeling pain when nothing can be done about it. I shut the door softly behind me, beginning a new habit of being as silent as the wind to not disturb anyone from my presence.

What was I even doing here? This was a mistake. No one likely wanted me here, I was an outsider. I had no money, nothing to my name, I was homeless, and had nothing to offer the world.

The more reasons I list, the more I realize I have nowhere else to be. I sigh and toss my small duffel bag onto the bed by the window. A floor lamp in the corner lighted the room in warm ambiance, and there were two dark brown dressers along the wall by the stairs. I headed up the iron spiral stairs, and they creaked under my weight. The room upstairs was completely empty, aside from a wall of mirrors. It almost looked like a dance studio, but it would make a nice lounge room if I could ever furnish it. I hear a loud knock at my door downstairs.

"Come in!" I shout from on top of the stairs. The man wearing the cowboy hat peaks around the corner.

"Hey darlin, getting settled in ok?" He asks kindly. I recognize him as the same man who cracked the joke downstairs, and my tension eases slightly. I gesture to my duffel bag on the bed.

"Not much to unpack really," I say as I make my way down the stairs. He frowns briefly, and then inspiration sparks in his eyes.

"One minute," he says. I furrow my brows in confusion. He returns with several large boxes and sets them in my new room. I open them and they contain women's clothing.

"They should fit, she was about your size. Maybe not as tall, but I'm sure it'll do for now." I stare at the boxes, and a large smile breaks out on my face.

"Thank you. Where did these come from?"

"I had a lady friend awhile back, she lived here with me. One day I wake up, she's gone, her suitcase is gone, and she never came back. So I've had her stuff ever since," he says a little sadly.

"I'm sorry. She never contacted you?"

"Not once. I tried to reach her so she could at least have her things back, but she completely ghosted me. Don't know why," he shrugged it off, but his black eyes showed how much hurt and sorrow he'd been through. Hell, his eyes looked tortured. He must've had a rough life.

He eyes something on my wrist.

"That real?" He's referring to the tattoo I have on the front of my wrist. It's skull, but designed as an art piece I've seen from Day of the Dead. It was colorful and pretty, but it's been five years since I got it. So the color has significantly faded and worn down.

"Oh, yes. I've been meaning to get it re-done with maybe so additions but haven't had a chance to yet."

"I could touch it up right now, if you'd like," he offers kindly. I smile, my face becoming red with shame.

"That's incredibly kind of you, but I don't have the money for that right now," I say quietly. He scoffs.

"I wasn't saying you had to pay for it. Come on down darlin, we'll get started right now. And you can come meet the guys," he offers. I pause.

"Are you sure? I don't want to interrupt whatever you guys are doing," I hesitate. He laughs.

"Darlin, we ain't doing shit. Which is the best kind of day. Come on," he starts to walk and I quickly follow him back downstairs. Everyone looks up again, all eyes on me.

"The name is Tool, by the way. Let's get you set up over here," he gestures to a chair for me to sit on and props my wrist up to have a look at it.

"Already drafting her for a tattoo? That was record time," a british voice says in humor. I look up to see the bald headed man that was throwing knives earlier smiling down at me. Tool gestures to my wrist.

"She already got one, I'm just fixing it." The man peeks around my shoulder and looks at it.

"Nice. My skull is better," he winks at me and shows the tattoo on his bicep. It was a skull and raven, and in antique lettering was written "The Expendables".

"The Expendables?" I ask him. He nods.

"Yea we're-"

"We've all got the tattoo, it's just an old friend thing. It started out as a joke, but we all kept getting it. It's a long story," Barney says as he reenters the room. He eyes Tool and the man next to me warily, and they give him a small glare. Then he looks at the needle gun Tool is prepping for me and narrows his eyes, but wisely says nothing.

"The name is Lee Christmas. What's yours again?" He sits in the stool next to the chair I lounge in.

"Brenna. Brenna Arvelo," I shake his hand politely as Tool finishes his prep.

'Alright darlin, got any specific designs you want or do you just want me to doodle?" He asks. I grin.

"Show me what you got," I challenge and sit back in my chair. Tool grins broadly and dips the gun in his ink. I wince briefly as the first pinch of the needle gun, but after a few minutes it fades into an annoying pinch that I barely acknowledge.

"Need a drink, Brenna?" Lee gets up and heads to a cooler.

"Water is fine, thank you."

"How old are you, kid?" He asks.

'Twenty, why?" He glances up at Barney, who is strategically placed in the farthest possible way from me and purposefully avoiding me. He tosses me a beer and winks. Tool glares at him.

"Only the one while I'm tattooing her, Lee," He warns, and Lee holds up his hands as a sign of surrender. Everyone is still talking amongst themselves, either loudly or quietly. The younger of the group gesture to me every once in awhile, they only look to be a few years older than me. They also speak in hushed tones, which only gives my imagination a run as I think of what they're saying about me. The tall and gorgeous woman in the group catches me looking over to them, and smiles warmly. She excuses herself and walks over.

"Hey, I'm Luna. That's Smilee, Thorn, and Mars," she gestures to each of the younger men as they approach. Smilee, the larger of the four, is quiet and brooding. Much similar to Barney, I note. Mars and Thorn are shoving each around as they approach, still laughing and smiling. Thorn seems to be the youngest the the four, he looks to be in his early twenties. Mars and Smilee have the military written all over them. Luna and Thorn seem to be the youngest of the four.

"Nice to meet you. Brenna," I shake her hand as well, and eye her tattoo that matches Lee's. The more I look around, the more I realize they all had the tattoo. I also notice the motorcycles all over the garage. Hm, maybe a motorcycle gang?

Honestly, I didn't care. I'm a firm believer in don't ask, don't tell. And as long as I was oblivious, I wasn't involved.

"Where ya from Brenna?" Thorn asks, taking a seat across from me.

"If y'all make her laugh and mess me up, I'm tattooing dumbass on your forehead," Tool mutters gruffly. I stifle a laugh and he sends me a warning look, so I respond by the sealing my lips with a key motion. He tries and fails to hide a smile.

"New Orleans, born and raised. Briefly spent some time in Vegas with my moms boyfriend, but thank god that didn't last," I mutter.

"Didn't like the guy?" Thorn asks with a frown.

"Didn't like was an understatement. I loathed Gabe. Still do. He has a restraining order on me now, which tells you all you need to know about how he feels about me," I mumble, casting my eyes down. Lee laughs.

"A restraining order? Why?" A tall blonde giant says, walking over. He was a little intimidating, with scars across his face and his body being three times my size.

"Um, well it's kind of a long story," I say to appease him, also not wanting to talk about it. As I say this to avoid the question, Barney perks up in the corner by himself.

"We have time," Barney says, curiosity in his eyes.

"Uh… well after mom died I told you I blamed him. It was a stupid idea, Gabe was too stupid and too much of a pussy to do that. But I was in too much of a rage, and he and I had fought before in the past when he'd hit mom-"

"He hit her?" Barney raised his voice slightly. I frown. Doesn't do him much good now to step in and save the day.

"Never knew why she stayed. Anyway, he and I got into a fight one day when he was piss drunk. And we both mutually agreed he wouldn't lay another hand on her and I wouldn't break his other arm-"

"You broke his arm?" Thorn whistled in an impressed tone. Everyone had come over now, to listen to the story.

"Yes. Anyway, after mom died I wasn't in a good place. I remember that time just being extremely black, no light. And one day, I'd gotten a hold somehow of a bottle of Gabe's whiskey. I'd been drinking, got angry, came at Gabe with a broken bottle. I was too drunk to pick a fight, let alone actively be in one. He wrestled the bottle out my hand and stabbed my shoulder with it," I twist slightly so I don't mess up Tool, who was listening to me anyway, and show the circular scarring on my shoulder. Then continued, "I was angry, in pain, and deeply depressed. I jumped on him. I don't know how long it was until I stopped. He was in the hospital for three weeks, and since the miserable son of bitch couldn't prove that a small girl beat him within an inch of his life, he couldn't do anything about it. I have no doubt that he'd be happy to run me over dead to this day," I mutter.

Thorn smiles widely, greatly amused. Everyone else shows similar faces, but Thorns smile is what catches my eyes. Our eyes meet and look away quickly. I note how remarkably green they are, but with wisps of brown throughout.

"Damn, like father like daughter," a dark skinned man holding a throwing knife says. Everyone looks at him in alarm, and suddenly I see Barney stand in the corner of the room and storm off upstairs. In a flash, I hear a door upstairs slam. I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. Tool stops, and gives me a sympathetic smile.

"He'll come around, kid. I think he's still processing Sabrina's- I mean your mom's death. He just found out today, after all," he shrugs.

"I don't need him to come around. I just don't want to be nuisance. To anyone," I nod toward everyone. Luna scoffs.

"Please, these oafs could use more women around," she winks and nudges me playfully on the shoulder. Everyone grins at me, and I realize I'm more of a pet project than a nuisance. Which I'll take over being a nuisance anyway. Luna's comment aside, I look at Tool.

"You knew my mom?" I ask. His face gets red.

"Um, no. Not exactly anyway. He spoke of her a great deal," he mumbles.

"Oh," I say, disappointed. I notice to my right that Lee has vanished.

Thorn sits down next to me now with a wide grin that sends my heart fluttering.

"So, what's your sign?" he asks with a staggering crooked grin and a wink. I can't tell if he's flirting to joke or actually flirting.

"Thorn, you're gonna get your ass kicked," the blonde giant says. Thorn just grins at me wolfishly. He's definitely the youngest of the bunch.

"That's Gunnar. He's the scariest looking, but he's harmless," Thorn gestures to him. He continues down the line introducing the men. Toll Road was the bald man with cauliflower ear, the huge black man cleaning what looked like car parts was Caesar, the other black man throwing knives with Lee was just called Doc. I note they all have interesting names.

"Thank god Galgo went to go take care of his sick sister in Spain, otherwise your ears would be bleeding by now," Doc mutters. They all laugh, and Thorn explains who Galgo is.

"So are you all army vets?" I guess. Everyone looks impressed.

"We're that scary looking?" Tool guesses as he finishes my tattoo. I giggle, and he grins back.

"You've got a nice laugh, we should hear it more often," he says with a wink. "I'm all done, what do you think?"

I gaze at my wrist and a large smile erupts on my face. It's the same skull with more color, and vines of flowers that go up my forearm and a small raven sitting on top of the skull. When the others come to see it, there's mixed reactions. I realize it's because they're tattoo also has a raven and skull, but mine is different on a large margin.

"My name in Gaelic means Raven. This is perfect Tool, I love it," I'm so happy that I can't contain myself, and hug him. He grunts a you're welcome and hugs me back though he tries to remain emotionless. He catches my eye and I wink at him, to which he laughs and shakes his head.

"You're gonna be a heartbreaker around here kid," he mutters, though I have no idea what he means.

Thorn has kept his eyes on me the whole time and occasionally I catch him and he sends a crooked smile my way. Smilee whacks him in the arm.

"Would you stop?" Luna laughs, rolling her eyes and sending me an apologetic smile. "Come over and sit with us," she offers and sends me a warm and inviting look. I get up from the tattoo chair and walk over, my hair clinging to my neck from sweating. I had my moms thick hair. I pulled it around my shoulders and it flowed to just below my rib cage. The air on my neck felt good.

"You've got really nice hair," Luna comments.

"Thank you, it's being a pain in the ass right now. It's so thick," I laugh, patting it down insecurely.

"I like it," Thorn says, still giving me a crooked smile. Everyone turns to him with exasperation.

"Could you maybe cool it?" Luna glares at him.

"What? I haven't done anything," he says innocently. I can't help but give him a smile back, even if he was being a total skeez.

"Aside from ogling her since she walked in? I mean your eyes haven't been off her ass since-"

Luna sends Mars a look that tells him to shut up. I laugh and realize Luna and I could be good friends. Smilee just rolls his eyes. He seems to be the grouchiest of the four, but he still has a trace of humor in his eyes.

I suddenly hear yelling upstairs where Barney's flat is and I sigh. Lee went up there likely to yell at him for storming out. Thorn gives me a sympathetic look.

"They're probably fighting about who left the toilet seat up again," Gunnar mutters and everyone laughs. I smile, but I don't feel it touch my eyes. Thorn notices and starts to say something but I cut him off.

"I'm gonna go upstairs and settle in a little more. I'll be back in a bit," I mutter and stand. Everyone nods, giving me their pitiful looks which only pisses me off further.


	4. Chapter 4

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Christmas comes barging into my flat, enraged.

"What do you want, Christmas?" I grumble, annoyed.

"You damn well what. We'll start with why the hell you're choosing to keep your occupation a secret. Now everyone has to walk on tiptoes around her to avoid spilling the beans. So I better have a good damn reason why I'm lying," he demands angrily. I frown at him further and gesture him to take a seat across from the chair I lounge in. I take a large puff of my cigar.

"Her mother. She was on her way here the night she died. I told her not to contact me- no we agreed she wouldn't contact me unless there was an emergency. Something was wrong. Very busy wrong. She didn't need me at all for 17 years, not even when she apparently endured abuse from another man. So whatever it was, it was bad. And it's likely my fault. So I can't tell Brenna what I do for a living without risking her freaking out and leaving. She needs help, and I can't do that if she knows everything. Sabrina would have wanted me to help her in any way I can without bringing her into my life. We agreed long ago it was too dangerous. The less she knows, the safer she'll be," I explain. Christmas seems pleased with the answer, and his pissed demeanor lessens slightly. But only slightly.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" He asks.

"About what?" Christmas gives me a deadpan look and I sigh. "Look, it was Sabrina's choice-"

"Bullshit. You were scared. Just admit it and we can move on. You were scared you'd be a shitty father, so you chose to be an absentee one. Not much of a difference there," he judges and I stand, ready to confront him if I have to.

"No. Sabrina and I were split up when she told me she was pregnant. I told her it was for the best if she kept the kid away from me."

"Why!" He stands too, yelling in my face.

"Because I already had endangered Sabrina, I couldn't bear to lose Brenna either!" I roar back. Christmas takes a step down, shocked.

"You care about her?" He asks, bewildered. I'm sure I look offended.

"It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, Lee. Someone found Sabrina, was asking her questions about me. Turns out he was a contact for someone who wanted me dead. Thankfully, that someone has been taken care of. She could've died. He could've shot her then and there if he wanted to. I got lucky, but I realize if I wanted this life and to be with Sabrina, I had to make a choice. I could've very easily walked away from it all with Sabrina, but I still have my name. People would come after me regardless. So I had to walk away from her. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. And then to do the same to Brenna, I don't think I ever forgave myself," I'm whispering by the time I'm done explaining. I take a staggering step back and flop back into the lounge chair. Christmas looks down at me, shocked.

"So you kept a close eye on them over the years?"

"Up until Brenna turned around ten. I figured if it had been ten years, they were going to be fine. I needed to move on. But clearly they weren't safe and I failed them. Sabrina is dead and I failed Brenna. As a father and as someone who deeply… loved her mother," I hesitate and finished my sentence. Christmas blew air out in shock.

"What's done is done. I understand now why you want to keep it a secret from her. I'll spread it around and tell the guys, they'll understand. But you can't beat yourself up for this-"

"My main goal now is figuring out who wanted Sabrina and why it's taken so long for me to find out. It has something to do with me but clearly whoever it is didn't care showing that off to me. It's so confusing," I put my head in my hands.

"I'm sure Brenna would like to help you with that-"

"The less she knows-"

"-the safer she'll be. I get it, I get it. Why didn't you ever tell me about her?" he prods. I raise an eyebrow.

"Did you honestly need to know?" Christmas thinks for a minute, and seems to realize that the information really was meaningless to him until today.

"I suppose not. But you should go back downstairs. Apologize. Poor kids thinks you hate her, all she wants is to get back on her feet quickly and be gone," he explains, but I'm still focusing on what he said about hating her.

"She thinks I hate her?"

"Can you blame her?"

I rise to my feet, headed toward the door to make this right. Christmas gets up behind me and follows me out of the flat. I quickly walk downstairs and everyone has resumed their usually nightly activities when we all hang out after a mission. Tool has finished tattooing her and she's nowhere in sight. He catches my eye at the top of the stairs and frowns.

"In her room," he mutters, and everyone gives me a disappointed look. Shit, she must be feeling awful about all this. I look at Christmas and he nods and walks past me, ready to explain my side of the story to everyone. I race back upstairs and to her room to see the door shut. I hesitate but knock softly. Silence.

"Come in!" she yells quietly. I open the door but don't see her. Her window is wide open, letting the cool autumn breeze in. It's a beautiful night out. She peeks her head around the corner of the window and I see she's sitting on the fire escape. And she's smoking. But when she sees me she squares her shoulders and starts to stand up.

"No it's ok, I just wanted to come talk to you. I'm sorry for storming off down there. All of this is just uncomfortable for me, and plus I didn't like hearing about what your mom had to go through with Gabe," I apologize sincerely, but she looks confused.

"I really didn't think anything of you storming away, if that's how you're putting it," her brows furrow but I can see she's just trying to put off how it hurt. I frown but decided against addressing it.

"How long did all that go on?" She sighs and takes a large puff of her cigarette before tossing it off the fire escape into the alley down below.

"She started dating Gabe when I was 16. Everything was fine at first, he seemed like a nice guy. Then he moved in. Quit his job. Started mooching off of us like some kind of blood-sucking leech-" she's cut off when we hear yelling downstairs. She stands with the same speed as I, and we both run downstairs. The drunk and belligerent bar owner from Brenna's work is downstairs with a giant knife, wielding it at my team.

"There she is! I want my goddamn money back!" he yells at her. Her brows furrow.

"How did you even know where I was?" she asks, sounding legitimately impressed. Wiley, the bar owner, looks offended.

"I've got friends," he whistles and four more guys come inside the garage. Tool stands up, grabbing a knife with him.

"This is my garage pal. I'm not too keen on your blood covering the floor, so do yourself a favor and get out," he threatens lowly, stepping up to him. Wiley looks around, and realizes he's out numbered. Then he grins and whistles once more, and the four men pull out guns. I curse to myself, realizing the closest guns were too far away in various drawers. We'd be gunned down before we could reach them.

Brenna's stance chances from not concerned to defensive, as she sucks in a breath.

"What's the problem, Wiley?" she asks in an even and calm tone. All eyes are on her.

"You stole money from my register. I saw the camera footage. You've done it for weeks," he hisses in her direction.

"And what would you propose is done about that?" she asks, cocking her head to the side. She's stalling him, my guess is trying to figure out a way out of this.

"I want it paid back, with interest. We can discuss the percentage back at the bar," he reaches forward and grabs her wrist roughly. She twists out of his grasp, and as he goes to slap her once more, she catches his hand mid-air.

"I took your shit for the last year because I needed the job. I don't anymore. And I don't need you. You want the money? Fine. But I'm not paying you interest, I'll pay to the exact penny I took," she sneers, her grip on his wrist like iron as he tries to reclaim his hand. Her jaw is clenched and her feet braced apart, like she's ready to fight. He manages to escape her grasp as she stares him down.

"No deal. My bar is on the cusp of closing. I want my money back with the percentage, or everyone here is dead," he counters, and the four men raise their guns. Everyone in the room smirks, not concerned still. Doc, Christmas, Tool, and Mars all have knives ready. I'll have to thank them later.

"Your bar is closing because your a drunken idiot that chases away your customers," she spats at him, and he grins.

"How about we play a little game called incentive?" he snaps his fingers and a man walks in with a young blonde girl with a gun to her head. I recognize her as the young girl from the bar before. Wiley grabs her and the gun, blasting in front of Brenna. Brenna's eyes widen.

"Reagan!" she gasps.

"Can you believe these assholes, Brenna?"

"So are you coming or not?" Wiley demands, cocking the gun to Reagan's head. Within the green wisps of her eyes, I see fiery hatred burning in them.

"I've got a better idea," she says under her breath. Wiley glares at her, and I see something silver in the palm of her hand. "Action salad!" she shouts, and Reagan ducks out of the way. Brenna throws a knife directly into Wiley's shoulder and he drops the gun at her feet. She grabs it and all of Wiley's men turn to her. Before they can shoot, knives come flying toward their chests and they're on the ground in two seconds flat. Brenna glances around, slightly mortified at all the bodies. I step in front of her line of sight of the bodies as she helps Reagan up. Wiley is groaning on the ground.

"Are you alright?" she asks Reagan.

"I think so. Thank you," she hugs her tightly and the two girls embrace briefly.

"What the hell is an action salad?" Toll Road asks.

"It's a made up item on Wiley's menu. Doesn't actually exist, but we shout it to each other to let one of us know when something is about to happen. Like a bar fight, Wiley is coming, etc," Brenna explains. Caesar looks impressed. I walk over to the cooler to grab Reagan a water when I hear a gun cock. Brenna is standing over Wiley, with the gun in her hand, pointing it at his head. I start to rush back over, but Tool puts a hand on her shoulder and it startles her.

"Trust me darlin, you don't want to do that. It'll send you down a dark road. Give me the gun," he asks softly. Her grip on the gun tightens.

"Why shouldn't I?" she says, her voice uneven. She's clearly uncomfortable holding a gun.

"Because you and I both know that as much as you want to do that, you know you shouldn't," he still has a hand on her shoulder, and while she may see it as a comforting gesture, I see it as a disarming stance. In case he needs to. Her hand lowers and she gives the gun back to him with defeat in her eyes.

"There's no need in feeling like that. I've got ya," he smiles and gives her a sideways hug. She smiles ever so slightly and nods. Tool walks away with the gun and hands it to me. He's about to say something when one of the men with a knife sticking out of his chest suddenly stands. With his gun pointed directly at Brenna.


	5. Chapter 5

I barely have time to think when the gun is pointed at my head. Before I can even process how, I'm knocked aside and behind a table by someone. I look up from my spot on the ground and Thorn is hovering over me with concern in his eyes. It's a moment frozen in time, he caresses the back of my head so it doesn't hit the ground, while his other arm snakes around my waist tightly. His hand on my waist sends my head spinning and I find myself staring at his face. He keeps his body covering mine on the ground, looking around wildly to make sure we're under sufficient cover. Gone is the flirty Thorn and now present is the protective Thorn. And admittedly, it was attractive. I hear a gunshot and flinch, and when I peek around the table I see blood sprayed across the floor and Barney holding the gun that shot him. I can't remove my eyes from the scene.

"Thorn, take her upstairs. Tool, call Drummer. We're going to need some help cleaning this shit up. Caesar, Toll Road, help me drag them out," Barney starts barking out orders and Thorn offers me his hand but I can't move. I'm still staring at the brains scattered across the floor and other dead bodies. Wiley stares at them in silence too.

"Thorn! Get her upstairs, now!" Barney snaps at him, and instead of waiting for me to take his hand, he picks me up bridal style and carries me out of the room.

He sets me down in my own room, and shuts the door behind him. He tilts my chin upwards and stares into my eyes briefly. The autumn breeze now feels freezing on my skin as I shiver. Thorn curses to himself.

"You're in shock," he mutters and sheds his jacket. He drapes it over my shoulders, and feels my pulse.

"You ok?" He asks. I nod.

"I don't do well around dead bodies. Seeing one was bad enough, seeing my own mothers was worse. I'm not squeamish, I just don't like their color. Something about the color of dead people's skin freaks me out," I shudder. He guides me to the bed and sits down next to me. I pull my arms through his warm jacket, and note it smells amazing. He rubs my arms up and down trying to warm me up.

"I'm sorry you had to see that then," he smiles sympathetically at me. I shrug and smile back.

"It is what it is. Thank you for saving me," I snuggle down into his jacket further.

"Anytime," he grins with a wink. It makes me blush and I look down. "That was very impressive down there. Do you know martial arts?"

"Yes and no. I was taught how to fight. It was my mom's idea. She thought it'd be good for me to defend myself. Can't argue with the results," I explain. He nods understandably, and takes my chin and holds it to the light. He looks at the bruising across my cheek from when Wiley hit me earlier in the evening.

"Did that bastard down there do this to you?" he demands. My frown gives him his answer and I hear him grit his teeth.

"I should throw him out a window," he mutters, stroking his thumb lightly across the small bruise. When I look back at his face, he's staring into my eyes. His hand still rests on my face.

"Been a long day for you, hasn't it?" he jokes weakly. I laugh at his sardonic attempt at humor.

"To be fair, I always knew he was out there somewhere. My mom always told me that my dad just didn't think it would work between them and split before he know about me. So it's been a bad day for him too," I offer as a counter argument on Barney's behalf.

"Just take it easy on him. He doesn't do emotion too well, and like you said, he's got it rough too," he gives me a sad smile.

"You're close?"

"We all are. The older of the squad moreso. Luna, Smilee, and Mars and I are all new. But, still close."

"Squad?" I ask, questioning his phrasing. His face flushes slightly, but he shrugs.

"Team, gang, friends, whatever," he says, stroking my cheek once more with his hand gently. His hand leaves a burning sensation across my skin that tingles in its wake, and it makes every hair on my body stand to attention. My breath catches in my throat and he smiles. He leans closer to me, and I smell the same musty and sweet scent from his jacket on him.

"Relax, if I kissed the bosses daughter, the boss might hang me," he whispers in my ear, and I feel my face slip a deeper shade of red.

"Boss?" I ask weakly, but my voice sounds distant and quiet. Thorn moves his hand into my hair, his lips still at my ear. His lips trail down my jawline, and to my throat. His warm and soft lips press to my throat softly and he grins.

"Your heartbeat is all over the place," he murmurs against my skin.

"I wonder why," I joke but don't move to get away from him. I can't, it's like I'm under a spell.

"Well, I'm just doing my job. Gotta keep you from going into shock, which means I have to keep you warm," he removes his lips and gives me a boyish grin. "And from the color of your face, I'd say it worked." I roll my eyes

"You're a handful," I accuse playfully, and he gives me a small nudge on the arm.

"You've seen nothing yet," he grins. There's a knock at the door and he stands abruptly. In walks Barney, who scans the room and his eyes land on me. Relief is apparent in his eyes.

"Are you ok?" he asks, kneeling in front of me to take my heartbeat. Thorn grins at me over Barney's shoulder, knowing my pulse was likely still erratic. Barney frowns.

"Do you feel ok?" he asks once more, and I nod.

"I'm ok, really," I assure him as I try to wave him off. He eyes the jacket around my shoulders and gives Thorn a warning look.

"I sent Reagan home with Smilee, she's ok but needs some rest. Is that ok?"

"Yes that's fine, I'll talk to her tomorrow," I tell him.

"I'm sorry that you had to see all that-"

"Are you kidding? I'm sorry that I caused it. All I wanted so far was to not be a nuisance and it hasn't even been 12 hours and you've got four dead bodies on the floor down there and Wiley to deal with and god only knows what'll happen now because you'll likely end up in jail-"

"We've got someone on it, we won't end up in jail, the bodies have been taken care of, Wiley has been removed, no one is in trouble, and no one is calling you a nuisance," he interrupts my frantic rant and gives me a small smile.

I don't even know what to say so all I manage is, "How?"

"We know someone," he hesitates to tell me more. But I'm finally starting to see something fishy going on.

"Look Barney. Whatever you do for a living, I don't care. I don't need to know. I can believe the mechanic thing, but you've obviously got something on the side and as long as it isn't horribly illegal and you don't involve me-"

"There's nothing bad. But no, I wouldn't dream of involving you. I promise to only ever tell you what you absolutely need to know," he agrees, seeming somewhat relieved that I'm so calm about him obviously lying to me about something. I hesitate and he notices.

"What?"

"Whatever it is… it's got nothing to do with my mom, right?" I ask. He shakes his head immediately.

"No. It doesn't. But I'm going to find out what happened to her. For your sake and mine," he says rather kindly, and for the first time, I actually give him a genuine smile and nod. He seems shocked once more to be getting any positive reaction from me. And briefly I see deep sorrow and regret sweep his face. It passes by so quick I think I imagined it.


	6. Chapter 6

After she'd gone to sleep, and everyone went home, I sat downstairs with Tool while he called a lady friend. When the phone slams down, it tells me everything I need to know about how it went.

"Not so good?"

"Not so good."

"Want to talk about it?"

"I want to talk about something," he mutters, grabbing his pipe.

"If it's about Brenna, Christmas already-"

"He explained what's going through your head. I just want to make sure you think this is right. Barney. If she finds out this ties in with her mom, after you promised her it wasn't, she'll lose it. Honestly I wouldn't put it past her if she put a gun to your head," he scoffs at me. I laugh and nod my head to the side. She has my temper but Sabrina's soft heart.

"Probably. But she'd never pull the trigger. You saw her today. The hatred in her eyes. You and I? We would've shot in less than two seconds flat. But she was completely scared of holding that gun. She talks a good talk but she'd never want to inflict any warm on anyone. And that's not a bad thing at all. I never want to put her in a situation where she… well where she'd have to…"

"Become like us?" Tool finishes for me. My eyes flash to him briefly.

"Yes. She's good, Tool. Lost, lonely, but good. She needs help," I say softly. Tool nods.

"I still don't like this."

"I know you don't. I don't either. But once I figure out what happened to her mother, I'll decide what to do. Maybe she'll be ready for it by then," I mutter.

We sit in silence for a while longer, like we do most nights, before I excuse myself to go to sleep. I walk by Brenna's room, and notice it's open and the lamp is on. She's laying on the window seat, passed out. She's curled in a ball, snoring slightly, with goosebumps on her skin. I frown. It's frigid in her room, the autumn air getting chillier by the minute. I don't like how the window is just open and has access to the fire escape. Someone could've easily snatched her.

I'm not sure what to do, so I walk over quietly and pick her up gently. She frowns in her sleep, but is undisturbed. I set her in the cot that's inset within the wall, and pulled the cream colored blanket up to her chin. She nuzzles into the pillow and her disturbed features smooth out. I reach over and close the window, thankfully it slides quietly and lock it tight. I walk over to her floor lamp and switch it off, leaving her room in complete darkness. The shadow that casts over her face is alarming, and briefly, her face transforms in Sabrina's.

She becomes pale, lifeless, and I realize, dead. It stabs me in the heart, and it's the greatest pain I've felt.

But then I blink and the image is gone. I take a shallow breath and walk out quickly.

 _What the hell was that about._

I rush to my flat and shut the door, lighting a cigar. What a long ass day.

"Barney Ross," a familiar voice says. I groan.

"Drummer, thanks for your help down there, but we just got back-"

"I'm aware. I heard you were looking for someone. I can help," he offers. I raise an eyebrow.

"I don't know who told you that, but like I said, we just got back. I'm not looking for anyone," I turn my back to him.

"Sabrina Arvelo." I halt, my body becomes frozen.

"How do you know that name?"

"I keep track of those we hire. Their weaknesses, past, strengths. Once Brenna Arvelo showed up here, I saw it. I found how who she was. Then I found Sabrina. Then I found you. So, congratulations. It's a girl," he smirks. I stare, wide eyed off into the distance.

"If you found her, anyone can. She has to leave," I turn towards the door, but Drummer stops me.

"Relax. Honestly, you're going to have a stroke. She's safer here than she is anywhere else. Consider it for two seconds and tell me I'm wrong. She's in a house full of mercenaries," he comments dryly. I pause, and consider the facts. Then I scoff.

"Yea, I suppose you're right."

"I'm fucking with you. Christmas told me everything that's going on, once I got someone to translate what the hell he was saying," he jokes. A release a large breath I was holding.

"Shit, Drummer. If you don't want me to have a stroke, don't be the cause of it," I grumble.

"Do you want my help or not?"

"At what cost?"

"The man the killed Sabrina, is the same man we want gone. No payment. We'll pay you your usual salary to take him out. Unfortunately, he's harder to find than most nutcases. It's going to be a while before we track him down. He's like a ghost. Worse than Stonebanks," he mutters grumpily.

"Who the hell is it?" I ask, wondering who could possibly so good to vanish into thin air. Drummer takes a shallow breath.

"Do you remember Church?"


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, it was like a ghost town. Tool was downstairs tattooing a pretty young lady, presumably his girlfriend. The way he was lowly whispering to her I'd assume so. He hears me reach the bottom of the iron stairs and looks up.

"Well hey there darlin'! Sleep well?" he asks. I grin.

"Like a rock, thanks to you," I comment. He raises a brow, confused.

"Thanks to me?"

"Yeah. I fell asleep by the window and someone put me in my bed."

"Honey that wasn't me," he shakes his head smiling. I realize instantly that Barney must've done it. A kind, warm feeling spreads across my heart at the gesture. I find myself smiling because of it.

"He's not hopeless, kid," Tool says quietly. I smile, knowing he's right.

"Let's hope so, Tool."

"How's the tat?"

"Looking pretty good," as I say this, my stomach growls loudly. I realize I hadn't ate yesterday at all. Tool grins.

"Kitchen is over there, help yourself," he points to the back of the garage. I walk over and discover a large stash of cereal.

"You can blame Toll Road for that," I hear Barney say behind me. He looks exhausted, like he hasn't slept at all.

"Hey. You alright? You look tired," I frown, and note that he shows surprise on his face for my concern.

"Just has a rough night. You know," he shrugs. I nod.

"Would Toll Road care if I had the cereal?" I raise a brow. Barney actually laughs.

"I doubt it, but if he comes at you with fists, I'll protect you," he jokes. I laugh and pull a box of cereal out of the cabinet.

"So I figured today I could take you shopping… you know. To make your room more like your room," he offers and I freeze. My heart catapults into overdrive.

"Y-you mean, like, you want me to stay longer?"

"Jesus Brenna, did you think I was going to kick you out after a day?"

"No! Just maybe after a couple days," I say sheepishly. Barney sighs.

"I'm sorry, that's my fault. I haven't been very welcoming. But I want you to stay. I don't expect us to be… well… I don't know. But I do want us to be friends. We both cared deeply for your mom. She'd want us to be at least that," he says sincerely. I'm sure my face seems shocked, and I don't say anything for a moment.

"Uh… yeah I think so too. I mean… um… thank you for being so… nice," I say awkwardly and he also shift uncomfortably. Tool watches us like we're some kind of lab experiment, his black eyes wide but with full over humor too.

"You two are fucking hilarious. Honestly, it's like watching two robots interact," Tool busts out laughing, earning a glare from Barney. His lady friend heads upstairs for god knows what. "On the plus side, she's a lot more human than you. And thankfully she takes after her mom, mostly. She has quite a resemblance to you as well," he teases us. My face grows hot and Barney opens his mouth to say something, before the garage door opens loudly. The sounds makes me jump, and before too long, a loud motorcycle come through the door. It's the blond giant.

"Hey Gunnar," Barney says. Gunnar gives a slight nod, but heads straight for the booze. It's before noon, and even Barney looks wary.

"What's wrong, Gunnar?" Tool asks. Gunnar grunts and sits down in a chair.

"Lady threw me out," Tool chokes on a puff of smoke from his pipe.

"I'm sorry? You and a lady?" Gunnar looks offended, but I can see the deeply rooted concern in his eyes. I take my bowl of cereal and sit across from him in the lounge area of the garage.

"What happened?" I ask, and he looks at me. Admittedly, he kind of frightened me.

"We got into a fight. About work. Long story," but he gives Barney a knowing look. Barney nods, but I decided against questioning him. Besides, fights about work usually mean the fight was about him working too much.

"Try giving her some time to cool off, maybe rant with some of her friends, and then come back with flowers. Maybe a gift. Something that shows you care, even though you work a lot," I offer through a bite of cereal. Barney and Tool smirk at me, and Gunnar raises an eyebrow.

"And you're the relationship expert?" He asks rather gruffly. My skin prickles with warning sensations, telling me to back off and scurry

"Easy," Barney warns under his breath.

"Well, I am a woman am I not? You are dating a woman, right?" I respond in a deadpan voice. Gunnar finally smirks, and I relax. Tool and Barney chuckle.

"I don't even know what would be considered thoughtful to her," he mutters, disbanding the idea.

"Well, what does she like?"

"I don't know. Music, art, lovey shit. Things I'm not good at," he complains. I perk up when he says art.

"Art? What kind?"

"Just like, cute flowery shit. She doesn't think I want the relationship because I don't share my feelings," he impersonates her voice rather badly. I instantly smile widely as an idea sparks in the back of my mind.

"Do you have a picture of her?"

Gunnar eyes me weirdly but produces a picture from his wallet. She's pretty, about his age, but definitely more feminine than I was imagining. I look at her for several seconds, while everyone tries to figure out what I'm doing.

"Do you think you can be patient and keep an open mind for about thirty minutes?" I ask him, and he gestures around him in a way that suggests he has nothing else better to do. I nod and run very quickly upstairs to my room and back down with my sketch pad and pencil set. Tool comes up behind me while I flip through my sketches.

"Very nice. I didn't know you could draw so well," he comments. I snort.

"You met me yesterday," I begin my sketch with an idea in mind that just might work.

Forty five minutes later, I've finished my drawing. Lee has arrived as well, observing me like everyone else. I've drawn a street-art portrait of Gunnar and his girl, with them embracing each other and flowers around it. Very feminine, and very lovey. I even drew it on a fancier canvas after I was doing sketching to make it more authentic. I show Gunnar, who only stares at it.

"Here's what you're going to do. You're gonna go home with that and a bouquet of flowers. Don't get her roses, literally anything else. If she asks why, tell her roses are ordinary and she isn't. You're going to tell her you went for a walk in the French Quarter. A street artist was drawing a couple and you handed him her picture and asked for a portrait. When she asks why, you'll say something like even when I'm mad I can't stop thinking about you. Or something lovey like that. Melt her heart into pure goo," I instruct efficiently, and slowly, Gunnar grins broadly.

"This is genius," he looks at me gratefully. I nod, accepting his form of thank you.

"You're welcome. Go get back to your lady friend," I showed him toward his gigantic motorcycle, and he walked away grinning.

"Hey kid, see that wall over there?" Tool asks, pointing to the large black wall on the opposite side of the garage. It was plain, and darkened the room.

"Yes?"

"How would you feel about painting me a mural? If you're up to the challenge," he offers. I feel my smile split my face in half. Even Barney looked surprised that I was showing so much teeth.

"Are you serious?"

"It'll liven the place up. I should have everything you need for it," he starts to walk back to a storage room, and I follow eagerly.

As soon as everything is set up, I decide before I start to go shopping with Barney. Before I make a mess out of myself.

On the ride over, Barney gets a phone call.

"What's up Tool?" he answers while driving, making me a little nervous. I didn't like cars, let alone distracted drivers. Barney frowns suddenly.

"Oh. It's for you," he gives the phone to me and my brows furrow.

"Hello?"

"Hey darlin, I got someone here for you named Reagan?"

"Put her on," I say, eager to see how she's doing.

"You need to get yourself a goddamn phone, Arvelo. Jesus," she complains loudly into my ear. I laugh.

"Good morning sleeping beauty," I remark.

"What happened yesterday," she says in a more serious voice. I sigh.

"You know what. A lot of stupid decisions caught up to us."

"What happened to Wiley?" she asks. I pause, because I'm not sure what to say. I glance briefly at Barney, who's watching me from the corner of his eye.

"Um, well I assume he's out of the picture. I'll keep you posted," I glanced at Barney, who's politely ignoring me. But I can tell he's still listening to some degree.

"Hey, why don't you come back a while later and you can help me paint that wall. I'm out right now. I'll see you later," I hang up.

"Reagan?"

"Yea. She's pretty confused about everything I think. But she usually keeps her cool until I'm ready to explain," I tell Barney. He nods.

"So, is she your best friend?"

I scoff.

"I guess. The closest thing to it. We've hung around each other forever. She's the daughter of one of Gabe's poker friends. But she's kind of on her own as well." He nods once more.

We pull up to a light and stop, waiting for our turn.

"So where do you want to start? We could go to IKEA-" he starts, but is immediately interrupted when something slams into the back on his truck, launching us forward. Our airbags deploy, smashing our faces. Our light has just turned green, so there's no one to hit us in the middle of the intersection. Barney looks behind him wildly, concerned and pissed the hell off. But everything goes mute as my ears begin to ring. I shudder, and briefly, I stare straight forward into the intersection. I see my mother's dead body lying in the road, twisted and bloodied. The horrifying image brings unwelcome tears into my eyes. I want to get out and go to her. I fumble with my seatbelt while something pulls at my arm. But I don't see it. I just see my mom. I pull more at the seatbelt that remains stuck, and in my panic, begin to rip at it and try to escape. A sob escapes my throat as I continue to panic. From somewhere, I hear a man's distant voice.

"Brenna!" I look around, scared and confused. And then, the paralyzing vision fades and a blinding white light sears it's way across my vision. I clutch my temple in agony, and when I open my eyes once more, I'm back in Barney's truck. He has a hand on my arm, looking at me with intense concern.

"Brenna?" I realize instantly that he was the voice I was hearing, and I must've gone briefly into shock.

"I'm ok," I choke out, but my voice is hoarse from the tears that spill down my face in waterfalls. He frowns deeply, launching his way out of the truck. The car that hit us is behind us. I see two young teenage girls get out of the car, one crying. I hear one mention something about texting. I can see that Barney is pissed, more than pissed, and calls the police for the accident. I remain where I am for the entire situation. The cops arrive, and when they see that I'm still in the car, they come to the door. I roll down the window.

"You alright in there?" One asks hesitantly. Barney frowns.

"She's been in a bad car accident in the past, I think she may have some PTSD. And obviously a busted lip from the air bag, and whiplash," he turns and glares at the young girls who are speaking to another cop. They only look ashamed and sad. I feel bad for them.

"I'm ok. It was just an accident. I'm sure they've learned their lesson," I tell him weakly. He frowns, something I notice now he does more than anything when he's holding his tongue.

I raise my hand to pull down the mirror on the passenger side and watch my hand shake uncontrollably. I force down the mirror and look at my horrendous reflection. My lip is busted and bruised, my eyes are red and puffy, and my nose is swollen from the crying as well. I look pathetic. I slam the mirror up in anger. I shouldn't be this damn weak. She died two goddamn years ago.

Barney approaches the window.

"Want to explain to me what that was about?" He eyes me knowingly. I shrug.

"Probably texting their boyfriends or something."

"Not that. I mean your mini freak out. You were shouting at me to let you go, and trying to unbuckle your seatbelt. You went into full blown panic," he says dryly. I swallow as beads of sweat form on my brow.

"You know why," I whisper, looking away. I knead my forehead to ease an oncoming headache. Barney puts a hand awkwardly on my shoulder.

"Yea. I know. I'm sorry," he says gruffly, unsure on how to comfort me. I don't need the affection.

"I'm fine. We'll go shopping some other time, maybe." He nods and pulls out his phone, with sudden inspiration in his eyes. He walks away with purpose, and it has me questioning what he's doing.


	8. Chapter 8

_Hi from the author! Just letting you know that the POV switches around a lot in the next two/three chapters or so. While this is a story between Barney and Brenna, it is important to share how they all treat each other like family. It makes for good personification later, and adds depth. Enjoy, and please leave reviews or message me if you have any ideas on the story!_

A while later, Barney has called a taxi back to the garage. Everyone is there now, minus a few of the younger people. Luna and Thorn are there. We walk in and once again, everyone stops what they're doing and stares.

"Jesus, what the hell happened to you guys?" Doc asks. Barney scoffs.

"I called Tool, you should know what happened," he mutters, reaching for a cigar. It makes me itch for a cigarette.

"Well yeah, he did. But Brenna looks like she's been to war and back," Lee scoffs. He was right. My eyes were bloodshot, bags hung under my eyes, my skin had gone pale, and my lip was bloodied and bruised. The painful vision of my mother had taken years off my life, and I honestly wanted nothing more than to escape to my room to grab a cigarette. Tool only looks at me with sympathy and traps me in a tight sideways embrace.

"Feelin' okay, darlin'?" he asks kindly, the warmth in his eyes significantly soothing my soul. I shrug and smile.

"Not a fan of cars. Walking, flying, trains, and boats are all okay. Don't like cars," I mutter. He gives me another empathetic smile and squeezes my shoulder. From out of nowhere, I hear Reagan's voice.

"Fuck Arvelo, what did you do? Fight a robot?" I don't know if I just needed to hear her voice, or her attitude, but I laugh.

"Why are you still here?" I ask.

"I only got off the phone with you like an hour ago. I stuck around to make sure you weren't hanging around a gang now-"

"Reagan," I warn her, reminding her of my golden rule: Never ask questions of which you already know the answer. These people obviously had something going on. As long as I'm not involved, the better. Reagan frowns, but gives me her "I'll talk to you about this later" look. Nevertheless, she grips me in a famous Reagan-bear hug and I feel even better.

"On a more serious note, are you okay? You know… with your mom?" she asks in a tone so low than no one can hear. Everyone has gone back to their original tasks, except Luna and Thorn who make their way over.

"I'm ok, Rey. Nothing a cig can't fix," I tell her, and she swats my arm painfully.

"You said you were quitting!" she hisses. I give her a look. I see Lee watching us out of the corner of my eye, and make brief eye contact with him. He walks over.

"You have your father's exact "don't fuck with me" look. It's actually hilarious," he laughs, and looks at Barney who's red in the face. But instead of leaving the room like last time, he only smiles.

"That's a gift kid, use it well," he glares at Lee in the same way as I glared at Reagan and I laugh.

"I'll bear that in mind. Reagan, do you want to help me set up that wall?" I point to my paint set up by the wall.

"Sure, do you have an idea as to what you want?"

"If I've captured the atmosphere in here correctly, yes. I'll show you the sketches. They're general, so bear with me. We'll need a huge ladder, and I don't trust your ditsy ass on anything that high-"

"Hey!" she pouts and I laugh.

"Give me a reason that I'm wrong, Rey," I give her my best deadpan look but I'm smirking. She doesn't respond, instead she swings a full blown punch at me. I grab the wrist she's using to punch and twist it, and her arm follows. It twists behind her back and I push her over the back of the couch, and she tumbles to the floor. She picks something off the table that I don't see and throws it at me, and I realize it's the remote to the TV as it flies toward me. I catch it swiftly and fling it back at her, which she ducks and launches over the couch at me. Everyone has stopped what they're doing now to watch us roughhouse around. Some are smiling and laughing, some just watch. I still think some of them aren't too happy by my presence. Rey's phone rings and while she's too busy trying to tackle me, I pluck it from her pocket. It says Smilee on the screen, and I gape at it. I show her the screen.

"And what is this about?" I mock, and she lunges for the phone. I hold it away from her, I'm much taller than she is. I'm much taller than most people.

"Brenna! Quit being a pain in the ass and give it back!"

"Now, that's no way to treat a friend. I'm just going to be your secretary. Hang on," I hit the green and we button and Reagan's eyes are of pure hatred as she continues to reach for the phone. "Hello, Smilee. How are you? This is Brenna, answering for Reagan. She can't come to the phone right now, I think she ate some bad Mexican food or something because she has been throwing up like ALL day-"

I don't get to finish my lie because Reagan backs up and finally is able to tackle me to the ground, sending the phone skidding across the floor. We lunge for it, but she gets to it first because I'm laughing too hard to take this seriously anymore.

"You're a bastard," she spits at me and answers the phone. I give her a cheesy, innocent grin and she just flips me off while she talks to Smilee. Something must've happened last night when he took her home. I'm still breathing heavy from our wrestling and when I turn around, the guys are trying to conceal their grins. Even Barney.

"What?"

"We didn't say anything," Caesar says with a nonchalant expression. Thorn approaches me.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" I scoff.

"That wasn't fighting, that was playing. I'd never actually hurt her," I toss my head in her direction, and she snorts.

"As if you could, Little Raven," she teases. I glare at her as she uses my least preferred nickname from high school.

"Little Raven?" Thorn asks with a grin.

"I was shorter than everyone in my grade growing up, until sophomore year. I hit a growth spurt and shot up like a foot."

"Why Raven?"

"Brenna means Raven in Gaelic," I explain, and everyone looks at Barney briefly with a knowing look in their eyes that I don't miss. I needed to talk to Barney about something while it was still in my head. I walk over and sit across from him. He regards me with a wary expression. But I owed him a chance to get to know him better, which is what I thought about all night.

"How did you and my mom meet?" I ask in a low voice, and everyone resumes their usual tasks. Barney looks briefly surprised, but then his body language shifts to one of welcomeness.

"Well, your mom's Mom, your grandmother, was a friend of mine. She was Italian, just like I am. Or was. But she was first generation Italian. It was impressive how quickly she learned English. But anyway, she was a family friend once upon a time. She looked after me after my parents passed away, but I was twenty when they did. And I was already joining the army. But she had a daughter, Sabrina, and I was always fond of her when I was young. I retired from the military, took up this job, we stayed together for a while, but ultimately it just didn't work out. That was before I knew about you. She came back a few weeks later and told me about you. And you can imagine the level of panic I felt. I wasn't fit to be a good boyfriend to her. Nor a husband, a father, not even a friend. So she made the call to raise you on her own. We discussed it to great detail, but it was what she wanted. And inevitably, what we both wanted," he explains into great detail, which I appreciate. He gave me way more information than I originally asked for, which was good too.

"She never spoke of you much, except when she would tell me how we had the same attitude. And it was usually only on days she was feeling low."

"It was probably easier on her to not talk about me much. We never wanted to split entirely. It just wasn't going to work," he sighed, but I could see sadness deep in his eyes.

"You cared about her a lot," I state to the open air. He frowns, his trademark frown.

"Still do. And I care about you too," he says in a low voice so no one can hear him. I smile, both because I knew he was avoiding being heard as kind and also because his words made me feel… happy, for once.

"She also said what a pain in the ass you were, one time," I tease, and he laughs.

"Wow, she only said it once? She told me every damn day," he grunts, and it's my turn to laugh.

 _Tools POV_

I look over across my parlor and see everyone hanging out, the usual sight. But what catches my eye is Brenna and Barney sitting in the corner laughing together. It brings a warm smile to my face as I look at the way Brenna makes Barney a lighter person. He's always so damn dark and cold. But I remember Sabrina and Barney, and how he was with her. Incredibly happy, incredibly anxious, and most of all, completely in love. And even more so when he found out about Brenna. He hadn't been the same since he had to walk away. Damn near killed him.

But looking at those two now brought hope and happiness for Barney, and almost like a brother, that's all I cared about.

Still, it worried me that Brenna was going to find out how Barney plans to keep her in the dark. When she walked into my garage, I thought for a moment my heart stopped. She was the spitting image of Sabrina, but younger of course. I thought for a moment it was her. Same narrow figure, but she had her father's height. Same waist length wavy black hair, same misty green eyes, but she shared her darker complexion with both her mother and father. Barney has lost his damn mind if he thinks he can keep this from her forever. She's going to find out, and it'll be hell on earth when it does.

I frown, looking at her young, happy face. I wanted nothing to happen to her either. She was finally starting to come out of her shell around us, and around Barney. But if she knew, she could take off and we'd never see her again. Or worse. She'd want revenge. When Barney had told me it was Church that killed her mom after he'd been dumped by the CIA, I instantly was worried about her. She's tough, she can fight decently from what I've seen with her and Reagan, but she has her father's death wish and arrogance. If she wants revenge, she'll go it alone. And hurt anyone in her path. But could she ever actually shoot a man? She nearly did already when Wiley laid a hand on Reagan. But to be face to face with her mother's murderer? Not knowing what she'd do was unnerving. I'd like to hope she'd put the gun down. She's got a kind heart, deep down. She sees the good in people. Like Sabrina. And I don't want to see her end up like us.

I still couldn't believe it was Church. I thought he was out of the picture. But apparently about three years ago, he was thrown into a cell by the CIA for getting greedy. It wasn't shocking, everyone in that godforsaken agency goes rotten eventually. Drugs, money, power. Man's greatest weakness. But, it was Barney's fault. After Stonebanks was killed, Drummer had revealed what happened.

Church took over the plutonium that Vilain had seized all those years ago, and while he had assured us it wouldn't go to the US Arsenal, he hadn't assured us he'd start selling it to the highest bidder under everyone's noses. We didn't know. No one did. Until he started selling to Stonebanks. Then he was ordered to take out Stonebanks, but he didn't want to take out his best buyer, so he gave the wrong information to Barney and the team on purpose. After we had taken Caesar to the hospital, it was discovered that Church gave Barney falsified information on purpose to get him killed. After Church was thrown in prison and After Stonebanks was dead, Barney visited him in his hole. Church has apparently lost his shit. According to Barney, he'd gone full blown psycho. Lost weight, looked like he hasn't slept in days. And so angry. Church blames him, saying if he has just died he would've been able to sweep everything under the rug. He vowed to get out and hurt everyone he cared about. But Barney, being the stupid piece of shit he is, said he had no one for him to go after. So, Church took it as a challenge. He managed to get out, and Drummer didn't tell us because he didn't think it was a big deal to us. He had no idea Barney was going to be targeted. And, unfortunately, Sabrina paid the price. We have no idea how he managed to find her. We were incredibly thorough. Especially in Brenna's case, and Barney is still digging to see why Church didn't rub it in his face that Sabrina died. And why he just found out. And why he left Brenna alive. It was all very confusing. And it was causing everyone to get a little anxious.

Brenna's loud laughter snaps me out of my mental anguish, and allows me to calm down for just a moment. Her and Barney both are laughing hard about something, and everyone very quickly gives the pair an astonished look. Barney's never laughed that hard. But when everyone turns away, I notice Thorn still staring at her. I smirk.

"Staring doesn't do anythin'. Talk to her," I tell him quietly when I walk over. He gets red in the face from being caught.

"I can't. Barney is right there. He'd kill me if I made a move on his daughter, for Christ's sake," he mutters, clearly upset about his choice of woman. I laugh.

"True, you picked a helluva woman. But not because she's Barney's daughter. But because she's a firecracker and a ball buster. She's gorgeous, she's funny, she's tough, and she'd probably kick your ass if you ever hurt her. She's a full package. So I'd be more worried about that than who her father is. Because not only would she kick your ass, but Barney would too. And so would I," I give him a look that states for him to be on his best behavior. He grins.

"Relax. She's just cute. I'm not going to go up to her and propose," he teases. I laugh and slap him on the shoulder. My laugh grabs Brenna's attention, who's still smiling, and she meets my eye. She gives me a subtle wink, and looks to Thorn. They stare at each other a moment before she blushes and looks away. I laugh and shake my head once more, walking away.

Brenna Arvello-Ross was going to be a heartbreaker around here.


	9. Chapter 9

It was two weeks later when my room was finally complete. The wall painting had been halted until I can prime the wall for spray paint, since I decided that would be my medium. But my room was cute and quaint and I loved it. I had lanterns and lights everywhere, basking the room in relaxing ambiance. I kept everyone lightly colored so it wouldn't get depressing in here, and I also got three huge bean bags to put upstairs in the smaller room as a lounge. A TV was upstairs too. It all made me very happy. But now it was finally time to start that damn wall.

Thorn and Luna and I had actually become good friends, even though Thorn has a habit with flirting with me all the time. But it was all in good fun and I knew that. I thought maybe the four year age difference between myself and the two of them would be a problem in our friendship, but it's not at all. They're actually no different than I. L Barney and I were starting to get pretty close too, he'd help me put my room together and then afterwards we'd go get lunch or something. Sadly, him and Lee were taking off for two days or so for a car show in Vegas. I was surprised no one else was going, but then again, who needs ten mechanics at once? He said they'd probably all take off together after they come back, because the car owners severely underestimate every year how many people they need on hand for when something goes wrong. But anyway, they'd be leaving tomorrow.

I braided my hair quickly, and put on my painting clothes. Which consisted of shorts and a black t-shirt with paint all over it from the past. It was a little chilly outside but once I get moving around it'll be ok. I grab my hat and handkerchief for covering my face and leave my bedroom. As I walked downstairs, I see Reagan up on the makeshift scaffolding platform that Thorn and Luna built. It was a little rickety and at times, we all questioned the stability. But Thorn and Luna were spotting us to make sure the higher we went up with the scaffolding, the more they were around if something happened. It was on a pulley type system, so if we equally pulled on two ropes on either side, it would go up. And we'd pull on another set of ropes to go down.

But today was finally paint day, and all the spray paint I'd picked out was up on the platform already.

"Well good morning, slow poke," Reagan grumped at me. She was clearly having a bad day. I raised an eyebrow.

"Hello to you too, what's wrong with you?" I ask as I tie the handkerchief around my neck. She glances at Smilee, who had his usual grumpy look on, but somehow even more pouty. Reagan had be trying to get him to ask her out for weeks now, because he had shown interest in her a while ago. But now apparently, he had changed his mind. I give her a sympathetic smile, but don't comment. To which she gives me a grateful wink.

"Ready to do this?" she asks eagerly, with less attitude. I climb on top of the platform.

"Let's do it," I bump fists with her briefly and pull my handkerchief up past my nose. I'd designed a neat Mountain View mural for the wall, but with a red night sky with a set of a beautiful woman's eyes in the sky above the mountains. Tool had loved the idea. We start with the mountains down below, and Reagan puts her crappy music on her speaker while we worked.

"Does it have to be Katy Perry?" I whine. She glares.

"Your music is depressing as fuck. Hell yes it does," and she turns it up. I point the spray can at her and narrow my eyes, and she laughs and turns the volume back down to a normal setting.

"Hey kiddo," I hear Tool say as he enters the room.

"Hey Tool! We're just getting started!" I said cheerfully and he grins.

"Alright, let me know if you need anything. I've got a few clients today, so I'll be a little busy," he tells me. I nod and turn back to my project at hand.

 _Thorn POV_

They were a little over halfway done, so Luna and I sat down in the lounge area across from them. Nothing had happened with the scaffolding yet except for a few jams from the pulley being too old, which wasn't a bad thing. But Reagan has gotten down now because everything that needed done now was up to Brenna and her specific art work. Reagan was up there to help her paint the main stuff. So I watched her work diligently on the wall. She looked happy, even through her black and grey skull handkerchief. She looked every bit her father's daughter, with the skulls and black clothing.

But I still appreciated the view. She had extremely long, tinted legs. Her shorts were also covered in paint, as were her legs. But it was kind of sexy the way she was making a mess out of herself. She didn't even mind the mess, she just kept working. She wasn't like a normal woman, who'd be worried about the mess she was making. She cared more the job she did. And it made me happy to see her in her own little world, doing what she loved.

"Jeez Thorn, want to be any more obvious that you're checking her out?" Luna scoffed quietly. Reagan heard her and snickered. Reagan had been around more often, but from what Brenna had said, apparently she comes from a rough background too. Sometimes Reagan stays days at time with Brenna in her room. Brenna's room was huge, so she had the space.

"Shove a sock in it Luna," I mutter but don't take my eyes off of Brenna. I wasn't so much checking her out as I was admiring her. Though admittedly, I still did much of the former daily. Tool was right, she was the full package. And we'd gotten closer in the last few weeks, and it's been nice just being her friend too. She takes my flirting as just being friendly and teasing, which is fine. But I really did like her. But I liked her so much that being her friend was great too. She was fun to be around, especially now that she'd gotten comfortable around everyone. I remember when she walked in for the first time, how pale (pale for her, anyway) and anxious she looked. She even looked too thin. But I'm the last two weeks, she's grown more confident and comfortable, and we have Barney to thank for that. He's gotten used to having her around, and the two have bonded more. And though I'm happy for them, I'm more worried as time goes on. Everyone is.

Drummer still can't find Church, and we have no idea if he knows where Brenna is. She safe with us, but we don't have a clue if he knows about her or if he plans on coming for her too. Nor do we know how far he's willing to go. And worst than that, it's only a matter of time before Brenna finds out. And the longer this goes on, the worse it'll be when she finds out. Which is why I'm okay with being just her friend. I couldn't do anything more with her in good conscience. It's killing me now enough as it is.

"Does it look ok from down there?" Brenna's voice rings out from high above, and I can't resist the opportunity to tease her while Barney isn't around. I'm always on my best behavior while he is.

"Looking good from down here," I grin up at her and rolls her eyes and winks down at me. I laugh.

"It looks great!" Luna beams, ignoring our flirtation.

"I was thinking of maybe adding some kind of-"

She doesn't get to finish her sentence because the scaffolding creaks loudly, and then one side of the ropes snap, leaving the scaffolding dangling in the air vertically by two ropes on the right side. She falls with it but grasps the metal grate for dear life as it swings back and forth, her legs flying through the air. If she falls, she risks breaking her legs. But if she hangs on, eventually it will fall with her and could fall right on top of her. Crushing her completely. So someone needs to catch her and she need to let go. I jump up into action.

"Brenna, you have to let go of that and let me catch you," I shot from under her, and she looks around wildly. Likely still dazed from the sudden fall.

"Are you crazy?" She yells. The sudden loud commotion causes Tool to run back into the room, and then Barney and Lee run from Barney's flat where they're prepping for their job scout out tomorrow. She uses her upper body strength and pulls herself onto the grate more, so her legs are flying everywhere.

"What the fuck?" Barney shouts from on top of the stairs.

"The scaffolding collapsed," Reagan explained.

"I think they can see that," Smilee speaks up sarcastically.

"Shut up Smilee, no one asked for your goddamn smartass comments," Brenna snaps, defending her friend and also getting pissed. I give him a "you had that coming" look, and he only rolls his eyes.

"Brenna, you need to jump down or that things gonna come down on top of you. We can catch you," Barney warns her. She shakes her head.

"If I can get up to the top of this thing, I can jump to the side of the elevator shaft and climb down," she explains and keeps climbing to the top of the swinging metal platform.

"Brenna! Get down!" Barney barks at her, clearly worried. She rolls her eyes at him.

"Would you relax? I've got this," she mutters. She reached the top of the platform and sits on it like a swing.

"Like father like daughter, you both have similar arrogance," Lee grumbles from behind Barney. Despite the serious situation, Tool laughs. She eyes the jump from the platform to the elevator shaft cage, measuring the distance. But even I can see that's a helluva jump.

"Brenna, for godsakes. Just jump down," I yell at her. She gives me a look that tells me to shut up. Uneasily, she stands on the side of the scaffolding and starts to force it to swing so she builds momentum. Everyone moves out of the way in case it gives. And in a moment suspended in time, she jumps the large gap from the platform to the elevator cage. But when her body hits the cage, she clings to it like a magnet and sticks the landing easily. Which is impressive. I whistle, and Barney glares.

"Don't encourage her," he mutters. She climbs down the cage with ease, and I'm smiling ear to ear when she gets down. She never fails to impress us, and me especially. But Barney is fuming.

"Do you have any idea how stupid that was? Not only could you have gotten hurt, but everyone below you," he chastises her like a father. She cracks a cheesy grin.

"Sorry, Dad," she chides and everyone freezes momentarily. It's the first time she's called him her dad, and even Barney doesn't know what to do. He looks caught between continuing to yell at her, laughing, and there's even a small smile forming on the corner of his mouth. But it's a moment cut short, when one of the two remaining ropes holding the platform snaps. It swings rapidly toward Reagan, and in a flash so quick I barely see her do it, Brenna has pushed Reagan out of harm's way. Brenna can't move out of the way in time and the large metal platform knocks her clear across the garage, and onto the concrete floor with a sickening smack of her head. _Shit._


	10. Chapter 10

_Barney's POV_

The sound of her head smacking the ground brings a cold stop to my heart. I race toward Brenna, and reach her first as everyone crowds around her. She's on her side, facing away from us, and still. Very still. I push her right shoulder down, and she flops towards me. She's out cold. I curse to myself. Reagan, who's in tears already, reaches her friend who's now unconscious on the cold floor.

"Barney, I'm so sorry, I didn't see it in time and I couldn't move out of the way-"

"It's ok, it wasn't your fault. It was just a freak accident," I calm her. Damn kids were making me soft. Tool takes Reagan into a different room to console her, and it makes me feel even more sorry for her.

"Well one things for certain, she for damn sure has got your speed. I've never seen someone move so fast, especially to save a friend," Lee mutters, and I glare at him. I don't like to be reminded how alike we are. I prefer her to be the most like Sabrina. But her agility, her strength, and reflexes were increasingly proving how alike we are. But a movement distracts my eye, and it's Brenna's hand moving to her head. She cringes in pain, and it slightly worries me. Thorn kneels beside her, anxiety clear on his face. A lot of it. I frown, not liking how close he was to her.

"You ok?" he chokes, helping her into a sitting position. But she just leans on him, her eyes still shut. She nods weakly, not speaking either. It's immediately clear she definitely was not ok. She just got her lights knocked out. And just as I think this, she slumps over once more, out cold. Thorn catches her and picks her up bridal style.

"What should we do?" he asks me. I sigh. I really can't avoid leaving tomorrow, but I don't want to leave her.

"I'll call Doc." I pull out my phone, and in 20 minutes he's here. Thorn had placed the unconscious Brenna on the couch in the lounge area, and she hadn't moved or even gotten her color back. It was uneasy to look at, how dead she actually looked. Occasionally it got to be too much and I had to look away and remind myself she wasn't dead.

"Where's the patient?" he asks with a knowing grin and carrying his treatment case, but when we point to Brenna he stops dead in his tracks and his smile vanishes. "What happened?" He rushes over to her and kneels in front of the couch.

"She got knocked clear across the garage, landed on her head," I explain. Thorn paced behind the couch while Doc examines her. He's still anxious as all hell, and it starting to get painstakingly obvious the feelings he has for her.

"She got the wind knocked out of her, she'll have a helluva concussion. She'll need to take it easy for the next few days. I've got some painkillers for the headache, and she'll need to be away from major light sources for the next 24 hours. When she wakes up next, she has to stay awake for 12 hours as well. Just to make sure there's no serious damage. But she should be alright. There's no cerebral swelling nor signs of significant trauma. Honestly? I'd say she's got your luck, Barney," he finishes his assessment and I smile. That she does. And she can keep that trait we share all she wants.

"Thanks for coming in, Doc. I don't know what kind of insurance she has, if she has any. So going to a hospital would've been a nightmare before she even got seen," I mutter, rethinking how hard it may be to take care of this woman. But as I think this, she stirs awake once more.

"Hey Brenna, welcome back. You actually with us this time?" Lee asks. She nods, but squints in the light.

"I'm going to be sick," she mutters, attempting to get up quickly. She gets disoriented, but Thorn is at her side again in a flash and carries her to a bathroom. I glare at his back.

"What's the matter Barney? Didn't think you'd have to beat the boys off your daughter so soon?" Tool gives me a hearty laugh. I glare at him too, but deep down I know the answer. I didn't expect that I would have to. But I also never expected to be called Dad. Today was full of surprises. But at least once was good.

 _Thorns POV_

I set her down in her own bathroom so she has better privacy. She covers her mouth with a pale hand, until she heaves over the toilet. I look down at her in sympathy. Poor girl has a bad concussion. I rub her back soothingly. She waves me off.

"I'm ok, you can go. You don't have to see this," she whispers weakly. I've never heard her talk so quietly, nor have I ever seen her so frail looking. I was glad her hair was still in a braid.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight until you stop looking like a corpse," I tease, and even through her pain, she has the ability to chuckle. But it's too much and soon she's dry heaving over the toilet. It looks painful as hell, but she has nothing in her stomach at this point.

"Should I go get someone?" I ask her, unsure what to do. She shakes her head.

"I haven't ate enough today. Don't worry about it," she wheezes.

"Brenna, you can barely breathe. I'm getting Doc," I rush out of the room, and to the top of the stairs.

"She's dry heaving and she can't breathe, I don't know what to do," I yell to Doc and Barney, and they both rush to her bathroom. She's still leaned over the toilet, no longer dry heaving but still gasping for air.

"Brenna, talk to me. What's wrong?" Doc asks, all business now. She shakes her head.

"It's not… possible. I haven't… had one...in years," she gasps. I don't follow what she's saying, but Doc seems to immediately understand what's happening.

"Do you have an inhaler?" he asks. She shakes her head.

"Haven't had asthma… since I was...13," she chokes out, clutching her chest. He runs downstairs and when he comes back up, he's carrying a blue inhaler.

"For emergencies. Here," he places the inhaler to her lips, and she sucks in the medicine as he presses the nozzle. As soon as he does this, she starts to breathe evenly again. She takes two puffs and sags against the wall to her bathroom.

"You're asthmatic?" Barney asks, kneeling in front of her. She shakes her head.

"I didn't think so. I haven't even needed my inhaler since I was 13," she explains.

"The head trauma and nausea could have triggered it. The brain is weird when it gets injured. You just need to rest. We'll bring you something light to eat so you don't faint on us too," Doc explains. She nods and flushes her toilet. Barney takes her hand and helps her off the ground. She brushes her teeth and then he guides her to her bed, and she sits down on it and leans against the cool wall.

"I'll go with Doc to find you something to eat and to ask a few more questions. Be right back," he warns me more than her. When he's left the room, she giggles suddenly. It's a beautiful sound, and it's a rare one as well. She laughs all the time, and that's a wonderful sound as well. But she's not much of a giggler.

"What?" I ask with a smile.

"I think Barney thinks you're up to no good," she says with a wink. I grin at her and sit down next to her.

"Maybe I'm not," I murmur in her ear. She pushes me away weakly.

"Oh stop that, you'll get us both in trouble," she giggles once more.

"You have such a nice laugh, I've only ever heard it once. But today I hear it twice. Within a few minutes. Maybe you should hit your head more often," I suggest, and she pinches my arm playfully. I capture her hand before she does it again, and she swats at me with the other one. She laughs when I capture the other one. Her eyes meet mine, and I'm lost in hers for who knows how long. I hold both her small wrists, but her hands slide into mine gently as we stare at each other. I feel electricity buzz between us, and I know she feels it too. Because she's looking at me with same wonder on her face. And then she bites her lip, as a sign of nervousness. It makes me grin down at her.

"Am I making you nervous?" I tease.

"You usually do," she says in a serious tone that shocks me. My smile vanishes, and I realize our faces are inches apart.

"Why?" I whisper, but I don't really need an answer. I just need to keep talking to her, so I don't end up kissing her.

The thought of kissing her sends my blood boiling, spiraling through my veins faster. My lips tingle at the nearly irresistible urge. The pull I felt toward her was tangible, like an invisible tethered rope around her. A lovely pink shade spreads across her cheeks, and I realize she's thinking the same thing. I reach up and graze my fingers slightly across the pink flesh of her blush. She very sweetly leans into my hand. It's a gesture I don't expect, and while it was incredibly pure and sweet, it makes my heart sink.

Anything I wanted to do with her, I couldn't. Excluding Barney murdering me, there was no possible way this could work and I could keep her in the dark the way Barney wanted it. His wishes were starting to piss everyone off. And plus, just like Barney, I'd be endangering her. And I didn't want what happened to her mother to happen to her.

"We better quit before Barney walks in," I attempt to tease, but I see a trace of hurt in her eyes as I pull away. Shit. I didn't mean to reject her like that. She nods and distances herself from me.

"Probably a good idea," she smiles but I can still see the hurt in her eyes. We sit in awkward silence until Barney walks in with soup.

"Just soup for now, until we're sure you can handle more. That ok?" he asks. She smiles gratefully and nods.

"Thank you," she takes the soup and eats slowly. Reagan bursts into the room.

"Are you ok? I just heard you had an asthma attack? You haven't had one since you were like what? Thirteen?" she asks. I laugh.

"Hello Reagan, how're you?"

"Fuck off with your bullshit right now, Arvelo. Are you okay?" she exasperates.

"I'm fine. Come here," Brenna hands me the soup and holds out her arms to calm her frantic friend. Those two are more like sisters than friends, and I don't even think Brenna realizes it. Much similar to Barney's friendship with Lee. They even acted the same, with the fist bumping, the roughhousing, the teasing, etc.

"You're actually stupid, you know that?" Reagan mutters. Barney scoffs in agreement.

"You're right, next time I'll let it decapitate you," Brenna says sarcastically, and Reagan laughs. The sound makes Brenna wince.

"Eat. And then settle in for a long ass day, because you're gonna be up for a while," Doc warns, and Brenna pouts.


	11. Chapter 11

It was now completely dark outside, which was great for my head. And Barney had finally stopped hovering for the night as long as I promised to stay awake for the night. I assured him I would, and I'd be roaming around all night. But it was now almost 3 AM, and my 12 hours were almost up.

But now I escaped out of my window onto the fire escape. I climbed the stairs as quietly as I could, and made it to the roof. On my usual spot. It was freezing out, at least freezing for my warm blood, and I pulled my red sweater around me tightly. The wind whipped around wildly and I could just barely see the muddy Mississippi over the French Quarter. It was my favorite view, and Tool got a really nice place. I breathed in the city night air and smiled, enjoying the ambiance of city lights. Even though they made my head throb. I leaned over the side of the building, resting against the stone. I thought about my life for the last three weeks, and how happy I was. Things were finally turning around. I hadn't approached Barney about finding out about what happened to my mother because honestly? I hadn't thought of it often. I was better coming to terms with her death, which is what she would've wanted anyway. But of course, the curiosity still burned bright inside me. And Barney hadn't brought it up again since he told me he would help me, which only added to the curiosity.

It bothered me daily that he was hiding something. It wasn't about my mom, but it was something. Whatever it was, I'm sure he'd tell me one day. If not, soon. We'd gotten closer in the last few weeks, more than I expected.

Thinking about my mom brought a bittersweet feeling to my heart. She'd love where I was at now. I just had to refocus and decide what I wanted to do with my life. But I honestly just wanted to be an artist.

I started to hum and sing a melody my mom used to sing to me when I would fuss around as a baby. It was an enchanting lullaby, and it was still calming to this day.

"I had no idea you could sing as well," Thorns voice rang out behind me. I spun and smiled.

"Hey. Yea I was in honors choir all four years of high school. Reagan forced me. Is she still passed out on the couch downstairs?"

"Yea she's out cold. I was coming to tell you that you can go to bed now. What are you doing up here?" he asks. I shrug.

"I'm up here a lot, no one ever sees me. It's a fantastic view. Even Reagan loves it," I comment. Thorn smiles fondly.

"You too are close," he states to open air. Three weeks ago I would've denied the accusation that she was my best friend, out of pride. But now I smile at it.

"Known her since I was eight. She knows me better than anyone. She had a good household until her parents lost their jobs. Her mom, well, she's alive but she left a long time ago. And her Dad is a boozy poker player. That's how we met, her dad was one of Gabe's friends. Her relationship with her father isn't necessarily bad, it's just… nonexistent," I explain. Thorn nods, walking further over to me. He sits across from me on the short wall of the room. It occurs to me that I've never asked for his family.

"What's your family like?" I ask. That earns me a wide smile that I'm not expecting.

"They're the kindest people on the planet. They permanently reside in South Africa, working for a non-profit organization. Helping children receive health care and education. My mom is a nurse and my dad is a teacher. Best people in the world," his voice I laced with nostalgia and pride. I smile.

"They sound like it. Wow. That's amazing. You must not see them often then," I comment. He gives me a sad smile.

"They stay so busy, I usually don't have the time to talk on the phone. But we email. It's nice still. I'm proud of them," he looks to the view of New Orleans and smiles as he takes in the beauty.

"Can I ask you another question?" He smirks.

"You'll ask anyway. What's up?"

"Thorn. That's your last name isn't it?" I ask. He freezes, unsure where I'm going with this.

"Yeah?"

"What's your first name?" I ask finally, and he frowns.

"I go by Thorn," he mutters, looking away. He's been cold to me all night, especially after the almost-kiss. I frowned at him, and looked away too.

"Is it embarrassing?" I pry once more, and now he's getting annoyed.

"No. I just don't go by it. No one know my full name," he mumbles to himself. I raise an eyebrow.

"No one? Not even the people that named you?" He gives me a look that says exactly how he feels about me right now. Why was he acting like an ass? I didn't ask him to come up to the roof and bother me.

"Are you a secret agent and if I knew your full name, someone would come after me?" I tease, but the panic in his expression catches me off guard. Something was up.

"I just don't use it, Brenna," he gets up and starts to talk toward the fire escape.

"Well then you'd have no problem telling me," I pry further. He whips around.

"Well, I do. So just stop it, alright?"

"God, what did I do to you? All I asked for was your goddamn name. I see you every day, we talk every day. We hang out, we laugh, we tease, hell, we flirt. I just wanted your name, but if that's so much to ask-"

I started to rant and walk past him but he grabs my arms, halting me in my attempt to go back downstairs. Before I can think twice, he's swooped down and pressed his lips against mine.

A burning hot sensation crawls it's way across my skin, leaving goosebumps in its path. My lips were cold from the autumn air, but his were still warm. I molded against him, and he curled his arm around my waist tightly. I opened my eyes briefly, and saw how tormented his expression was. He looked completely troubled, his brows furrowed as he kissed me with such a passionate force. I wanted to break away, to ask what was wrong, but instead I closed my eyes again and kissed him back with the same amount of passion. His other hand cupped my cheek gently while the other still held me fiercely to him. I placed my hands on his arms to steady myself, because he was making me dizzy.

He backed me up against a giant metal box that I assumed had the generator in for the building. He trapped me between the wall and his body, his lips starting to pull at mine a bit faster. I very gently traced his bottom lip with my tongue, and he makes a low appreciative noise from the back of his throat. He picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist, pinning me entirely to him. His kiss was making me dizzy, and it was getting to the point where it wasn't a good thing. My concussion can't handle this, and right as I think this, everything fades to black.

 _Thorns POV_

Her lips were sweet and soft, just as they always looked. And I couldn't tell if it was my frustration with her, or how nearly dead on she was with her accusations that made me have a surge of emotion. I had to kiss her. Just once. And I don't know why I thought I could handle it. Or her.

Desire had exploded between us, all of the concern, anxiety, and fear that I have for the man that's after her poured into that kiss. I couldn't pull away, I just wanted more. And she let me have her in that moment, it was so perfect. The way the chilly air whipped around us meant nothing, the blood pounding through my body from her lips kept me warm.

But, right as things started to go a little too far, she dropped like a sack of potatoes. I grabbed her waist, keeping her upright and against my body.

"Shit. Brenna, baby, can you hear me?" I shake her gently and she stirs. She gazes at me with an accusatory look.

"Y-you made me faint," she slurs, jabbing a long finger into my shoulder. I chuckle and pick her up bridal style once more. I start to walk down the fire escape with her in my arms.

"That was your own fault, you went too far with a concussion," I teased her, but only because I know that it was technically my fault for shoving my lips on her. She glares at me with hazy eyes.

"You called me baby," she mutters grumpily. Now I'm laughing.

"And?"

"I don't like it," she pouts like a child. Her painkillers must be making her a little bit out of it, as well. I briefly touch my lips to her soft, pouted bottom lip.

"We'll discuss pet names later. In ya go," we step inside her room once more and shut the window. I set her on her feet gently, and she sways uneasily.

"Brenna?" I ask in concern.

"I'm cold," she continues to pout like a child, and admittedly, it was sexy to see her bottom lip pushed out like that. I glance around and make sure no one is in her room, before swooping down and tugging at her bottom lip with my teeth. She gasps.

"Put that away before I put it to use," I growl in her ear. She giggles, and stops pouting. A shrug off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders.

"You're cheeky," she accuses playfully. I guide her to the bed, and she stumbles before she makes it. I try to catch her, but she takes me with her and we fall beside each other on the bed. She grins, and I realize she did that on purpose.

"I'm the cheeky one?" I give her a knowing look and shift to get up. She grabs my hand tightly.

"No! Stay. Please," she begs, and I take a minute to look at her. She was wearing leggings, an oversized red sweater that was hanging off her shoulder and exposing the top of her cleavage. Her black hair was wild and untamed and her legs were weaves in the sheets. My jacket was still around her shoulder, and I briefly wonder what she would look like with just my jacket on. The image stirs unwelcome feelings and I shake it off. But I also realize I don't want to leave. I walk over and shut and lock her door so no one can come barging in on us. I didn't want anyone to know about us, and that was something we'd have to talk about later. If I can keep away from her, I had to keep it from everyone else that I was with her.

I took off my shirt and slipped into bed with her, and she gave my chest an appreciative look. She climbed on top of my chest and curled up, her fingers like ice still. I kissed the top of her head.

I thought she had fallen asleep, but we were just quiet for a long time. Eventually, she looks up and asks, "Do you like working for Barney?" she asks. I do my best to keep from tensing up, but she notices something is wrong and looks up.

"Sometimes yes, sometimes no. I do what I love, the job helps me travel everywhere. And I love to travel. But, as I'm sure you've worked out, he can be a pain in the ass," I remain in the safe zone and avoid telling her a lie. Shit, I'm going to get in so much trouble with this girl. Between lying to her and lying to everyone else about her, I was digging myself a deeper hole. And for what? Because I cared about her?

A deeper, darker feeling swelled in my chest but I couldn't even bring myself to think about it. It was selfish to even think about, even more so to say it out loud. I couldn't. But I was still being selfish by lying to her. The torment was killing me. But for once, I wanted to just let myself be happy with a woman sleeping on my chest.

She seems to accept my answer, and she becomes still again. And soon, I hear soft snores coming from her. I relax deeper into her bed and pull the covers over us, allowing myself to fall into a deep sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

When I woke up, Brenna was still asleep. She was curled up beside me, with her legs curled up to her chest. It made me smile, she sleeps like a child. I glanced at the clock and saw it was still early, and decided she'd be asleep for a while longer. I had to debate whether to lay beside her and watch her sleep peacefully and sneak out. It was an easy decision.

I laid back and gazed at her untroubled sleeping face, her face and lips smooshed into the pillow. Sometimes I have trouble sleeping through the night, as we all do, from the… difficulties the job brings. Barney and some of the older team members have gotten a little over it. But I know Luna and I still have problems at night. I prayed Brenna would have to experience any of this.

Luna and I share that, and it's made us closer as teammates and friends. She adores Brenna like a little sister, but they're good friends. Brenna acts well beyond her years, and it's impressive. The way she got over her defensiveness around Barney so quickly was incredibly mature. The animosity she felt and the awkwardness was pretty much gone. It was nice seeing things go back to normal.

I stayed and looked at her a while longer before I decided to sneak out and see if Barney had left yet. I creeped out of her room and to my pleasant surprise, only Tool was up.

"Hey Thorn, you're still here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. I felt my face get hot.

"I was just checking on her," I explained. Tool smirks.

"Relax. I won't say a word. But you should know, I don't like it. There's enough lying going on around here as it is," Tool frowns, and so do I. I wasn't happy about it all either.

"I know. But nothing happened. We just spent the night together. It really was just me keeping an eye on her. Wasn't comfortable with…" I trailed off, not sure what to say. Tool nods.

"Leaving her alone? You sound like you've got it bad, kid," he prods at me. I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration.

"I know," I mutter. The garage door suddenly freaks open loudly, and Christmas' crotch-rocket we all make fun of buzzes in.

"I thought I smelled daisies," I say in his direction, and he gives me a "fuck off look". I raise a brow.

"Damn, what's got you in a bad mood already? Thought you were a morning person," I ask. He sighs.

"It's Lace. She's upset we're leaving again. I don't know how we're ever going to move toward the wedding if-"

"You're engaged?" I hear Brenna shout from on top of the stairs. Damn, it was lucky we weren't talking about anything else. Things were getting to hard around here. Christmas smiles when he sees her. He was fond of her too. The whole team had warmed up to her, but she was kind of becoming the mother around here. She cooked for us all the time. But her closest admirers were Christmas and Tool. And sometimes Gunnar, when he wasn't being a moody piece of shit.

"Yea, I don't think I've ever spoke of her. Her name is Lace, she doesn't approve of my friends so she's not around often," he explains, but it was also because we hadn't explained to Lace that she couldn't tell Brenna anything and we didn't trust her to not spill the beans. Christmas swore she could keep a secret, but Lace was eccentric and at times, bubble-brained.

"That explains why you seem to be the only one with a heart around here. Honestly, you guys act so dark all the time. Like you all feed off the testosterone in the air or something," she mutters. I scoff and Tool raises a brow. She, clearly, was not a morning person.

"And good morning to you, sunshine," Tool laughs. She looks at me, but wisely, stays put and doesn't say anything about last night. She must sense my unease. She excuses herself to make some coffee.

"Why are you up so early?" I ask, following her for a tinsy bit of privacy while Christmas and Tool spoke, lowly about recon today.

"Well I wasn't just going to stay in bed and not say goodbye to Barney," she frowns, and the guys overhear and smile fondly at her.

"How's the head?" Tool shouts to her, and she grimaces.

"Imagine getting knocked twenty feet in the air and landing head first on a concrete floor. That's how it feels," she grumbles. Christmas snorts at the irony, because everyone of us has had that experience. We know the pain all too well. The resume their conversation and I turn to Brenna.

"Hey so-"

"Don't worry, I don't want to tell Barney yet either. And I don't trust any of them to keep it to themselves. This is all so new, and Barney seems… protective I guess. To some degree. I'd rather do this slowly. With telling him and… well… with us too," she whispers rapidly under her breath. I let out a sigh of relief.

"Good, because your father would likely rip me to shreds," I mutter back. She laughs, and then winces from the loud sound.

"I don't doubt it," she muses, and speaking of the devil, Barney comes downstairs.

"What are you doing up? You should be resting," Barney frowns at her. She shrugs, not wanting to admit that she just wanted to see him off safely.

"You try sleeping with this fucking headache and tell me how you fare," she mutters, and like Christmas, he snorts at the irony.

"Fair enough. Think you'll be okay on your own for the next few days?" he asks. She nods and smiles.

"There's only about a million things I could get into while you're gone, I should survive," she jokes, but it ages Barney an extra year for her to say that. She laughs and takes a long drink of her coffee. "Relax, it was joke. I'm well taken care of here," she assures him. Then she frowns.

"Where did Reagan go?"

"She's upstairs in the guest room. I told her she can stay in there. I'm getting used to having all you ladies around, it's going to be weird if you ever find an apartment," Tool jokes. Brenna scoffs and takes another drink of coffee. She has the same taste of coffee as her father. Strong and black and disgusting.

"Well she knows she's welcome to stay for as long as she likes," Christmas nods toward Brenna, who only smiles warmly. Christmas and Barney had packed up last night after she'd gone upstairs for the night, so all they had to do was leave.

"We should head out Barney," Christmas nods toward the door. Barney nods.

"Stay out of trouble, rest, drink plenty of fluids-"

"Breathe in, breathe out, eat food, yadayada. I won't die between now and when you get back. Promise," she mutters. Barney scoffs.

"You've certainly made your efforts since you got here," he warns her. She grins.

"I'll work on that, but I'm not dead yet," she sets down her mug and, shocking us all, wraps her arms around Barney in a brief hug.

"Be safe," she mumbled quietly. Barney, who is now shocked, hugs her back awkwardly and then grabs his bag. His face is red, but he walks away trying not to smile.

"I'll call you when I can," he says, and she nods and he walks out of the door to his still damaged truck.

Tool turns and grins at her.

"So, what are we doing today darlin?" She laughs.

"I'm under strict orders to stay out of trouble, so essentially, fun is off the list," she says. Tool lets out a hearty laugh.

"I'm sure we'll find something."

 _Brenna's POV_

We had been playing cards since this morning, and it had been brought to my attention that Tool knew about Thorn and I.

"Look, as long as you guys aren't sexing up my garage, I don't care."

"Tool!" I yelled at him, and he chuckled.

But since then it had been pretty quiet, Reagan was upstairs still asleep even though it was noon.

"What happened to Luna yesterday?" I ask as I lay down my set of cards. Tool frowns at my hand.

"Well she stuck around for a while but eventually she left."

"And Smilee?" Thorn and Tool exchange a look. "What?"

"Well he apologized to Reagan for his attitude toward her and well… I think they pulled the same thing you guys pulled," Tool muttered disapprovingly. I frowned deeply, disliking her choice of men.

"Don't approve?"

"He's grouchy all the damn time. Doesn't treat her right," I grump to myself. Thorn kicks me under the table, and when I turn around, Smilee and Reagan are coming down the stairs with red faces.

"Good morning," she says cheerfully.

"Not morning anymore, babe," I tell her and she whacks the back of my head with the sleeve of her sweater. I wince. "Breaking news, still have a concussion."

She blinks, and I think she has forgotten and then gets a really sad expression.

"I'm so sorry. I forgot. How're you feeling?" she asks, and sits down next to me. She swings her feet into my lap.

"Better. If I keep smelling your feet I'll probably faint though," I warn her. She shoves a foot in my face and I grab it and twist.

"Ow!" She helps and lunges for me, but Smilee grabs her. He seems to be in a better mood.

"No fighting today. She's injured, she'll kick your ass, you'll be injured, and Barney will be pissed at all of us," he warns us. Reagan just grins at him. Soon, Gunnar and Caesar have showed up. It's always hit and miss who's here and who isn't.

They join our card game, and it's quiet for a long time, before someone is pounding at the door frantically. Tool purses his lips, deciding whether or not to go get it, and eventually gets up. He answers the door, but in two seconds I hear a loud bang and Tool is shot back onto the floor. Reagan screams and I jump up to run toward Tool, but Thorn grabs me and drags me behind him. Wiley walks around the corner holding a pistol and seven men follow him. We're largely outnumbered this time he's here. And there's no weapons in sight. Usually Doc and Lee are messing around with throwing knifes oddly enough. Even Tool usually has some lying around. But I see none within reach. There's no way out this this time. Even Gunnar and Caesar look slightly panicked. Wiley points a pistol at Thorn.

"I told you I'd be back!" Tool is groaning on the ground, clutching his shoulder. I hoped and prayed it was a through-and-through shot.

"Wait!" I spin in front of Thorn, and Wiley puts the gun down. I hold up my hands in front of me, showing I'm unarmed and mean to show him no harm. "I'm right here. I'm who you want. It's just me and you." I walk closer to him slowly, with my hands in the air. His gun follows me. Gunnar and Caesar step forward, and Wiley's entourage raise their guns toward them. I put a hand toward them, telling them not to move.

"Don't, guys," I ask them.

"Brenna-"

"I said don't!" I bark at them, and they look at me shocked.

"I want Reagan to come with us," Wiley gestures toward her, and Smilee grabs Reagan's arm protectively. Maybe he wasn't such a bad guy after all. Thorn I could see was fighting the instinct to do the same to me. I shook my head slightly at him, glancing over at Reagan. I wanted him to stay and protect Reagan. She wasn't coming with me.

"No deal. I'm surrendering easy. Leave her out of this, I was the one that talked her into stealing the money. It was a mistake. I'll cover the sum she took as well," I speak as evenly and calmly as I can, hoping I sound level. Apparently I do, because Wiley lowers the gun further.

"Brenna, no!" Reagan cries, but Smilee drags her to him. I gave him a grateful nod, and he gives me one back.

"Fine. Let's go," Wiley grabs my arm roughly and drags me over to the door.

"Brenna, don't-" I hear Tool groan. I shake my head and put a finger to my lips, telling him in on motion I was ok. I was going to escape from this.

"Can I check on his shoulder really quick? I'm the only medic here. Please," I lie to Wiley, and he frowns.

"Since when are you a medic?" He asks.

"Medical training, you have to know it as a bartender. In case someone got roughed up. Didn't want anyone dying in your bar," I joke weakly, and Wiley scoffs. He points at Tool with the gun.

"Make it fast," he steps back but everyone watches me.

I walk over and kneel by Tool.

"What are you up to, Brenna?" he hisses, anger and annoyance in his eyes. I pretending to mess around and poke at his shoulder. But from the looks of it, it was a through-and-through shot.

"I've only got five seconds and I need you to listen. I'm going to escape but I need you to trust me and wait for me. It won't be hard and I'll be okay. I can't do what I need to do around everyone when they can hurt everyone in here. If it's just me, I can worry about just me. But I can't do what I need to do while worrying about someone I care about getting shot. I need you to stay put and trust me, can you do that?" I mumble under my breath, tearing a piece of his shirt to cover the wound. Tool looks at a loss for words as he looks at me.

"Brenna I can't just let you go-"

"I'm not giving you the option here. Trust me. That's all I can ask of you. I have to go. Please do that for me, and I'll be back soon," I whisper and get up. I walk back over to Wiley and we walk out the door. I hear Reagan shout my name as I walk out the door, and I ignore it. I get into Wiley's SUV and as I pull away, I see Thorn running outside. He chases the van for a moment before we speed off. I can see him put his hands on his head in anguish, and Gunnar and Caesar ran out behind him. I hoped Tool would be alright. I hoped Thorn wasn't too mad at me. Lord knows Barney was going to be.

My heart rate was through the roof but I remained as calm as I could.

"You don't look nervous. You should be," Wiley sneers.

"What's there to be nervous about? I owe you money, we're gonna solve the problem," I tell him. He only grins.

"Oh no. Before there was a problem. But now, you've insulted me. Those idiots protecting you insulted me. I should go after them too, but frankly, the originating problem is you. So we'll deal with you," he gloats. I had a feeling this meant he was just going to kill me. But why take me away?

"If you're just planning on killing me, why take me away?" He grins.

"I'm not keen on the police. Too many people around to hear your screams. This gives me a little time to get away," he continues to gloat.

A while later, we pull up to an old warehouse outside of town. It was surrounded by marsh and swamp. A perfect place to hide a body.

"Right, get her out of the car," he yells at his men. They roughly drag me from the SUV and the harsh rays of sun make my head throb. _I cannot show signs of any weakness. He can't know I'm concussed. I must not faint. I must not faint._ I focused on this mantra as I walked around the car and they led me inside the warehouse. Shit, Barney was going to be so pissed.

They led me to a chair and forced me to sit down. They tied my hands behind my chair and I realized I was sitting in front of a video camera. I frowned, unsure of what was happening. Wiley flips the camera on, and stands in front of it. A man in the dark that I couldn't see was on the TV screen, and I realized it wasn't a video camera. It was a webcam.

"We have her. Now you have to come and get her. Quickly, before her friends get here," he instructs. The seven man stand behind me menacingly. I count in my head how long it'll be until they're paying more attention to the man on the webcam rather than me, so I can twist my hands free.

"Did she come alone?" The man on the webcam had a muffled, robotic voice so it prohibited what he actually sounded like. This was getting weirder and weirder. Someone else wanted me? Why?

"Yes."

"Did you?" The man asks. Wiley grows tired of his questions.

"Yes, are you going to give me what I asked for?"

"There's a fine line between what people ask for, and what they deserve." Seven shots ring out, and the men behind me are dead. I gasp as the sound scares me, but refuse to give their bodies a second glance. I had no idea what was going on but I couldn't pause for a moment out of confusion. It was just him and I now, and if I had a chance to escape it was now. I feared for the snipers above me and who they were really after. So I had to act fast.

Wiley whips around wildly. I break free of my bonds, by twisting and stretching the zip tie until it snaps. He runs at me and I block him. I bring my elbow to his abdomen and he coughs, and then shove my palm into the bridge of his nose. I hear the sickening crunch of his nose and blood pours out. The man on the webcam laughs as he watches Wiley lunge for me again. I easily deflect his blows, and manage to reach for the gun on his holster. I strike him across the forehead and he crumples to the ground. I point the gun at him, once again in the same position I was three weeks ago.

"Very nice, Brenna. Very nice. Your father would be proud," the man on the webcam says. Wiley wasn't going anywhere in his current condition, so I whip my head up toward the camera.

"How do you know me? How do you know Barney?" I ask. He tsks me.

"So many questions. I'm on your side. See, I knew Wiley would bring all his men the next time he went after you. So I gave him a false money incentive to go get you. And seeing as how you are your father's daughter, I also predicted you'd be all noble and try to save your friend by going alone. And clearly, you can handle yourself. Very impressive. Anyway, I knew if he sent all his men, it would be just that. I'd just have to take them out. And your problem with Wiley disappears. But I figured I'd save him for you, as a secondary present. You're welcome," he tells me. My hands start to shake.

"Why me? Why help me?"

"Because I'm going to need you eventually. But first, I want to see how this plays out. Are you going to shoot him?"

"I asked you a question first," I state, playing his game.

"Ah, clever girl. Alright, fine. I need you alive because I plan on being the one to kill you. My question," his answer sends chills down my spine and catapults my heart into overdrive. My head was pounding. But I had to play his game.

"I haven't decided what I'm doing with him yet. My turn-"

"No, that was a lousy answer. That's like answering a question with another question."

"So is telling me you're going to kill me and not explaining why, when, and why you haven't already considering you have snipers surrounding me," I argue. If I could see his face, it was probably grinning.

"You're very good at this Brenna, I'm impressed. I'm looking forward to these games with you. And Barney. But sadly, you won't remember a thing I've told you unless you kill Wiley," he counters. What did this have to do with Barney?

"Why?"

I hear someone step from behind me and he's holding a gun in one hand in a syringe in another. He's massive, three times the size of Wiley. And likely a trained killer. Meaning I have no chance even if I managed to shoot him before he shoots me.

"Because he's carrying a powerful sedative that will effectively block out your memory of the last hour. But if you kill Wiley, I'll let you keep these memories and you can go home a free woman and have a long chat with your dad. He's got a lot to tell you," he says in a sing-song voice. It was eerie.

"What does Barney know? I can't make an accurate decision here unless I know what I'm missing," I attempt to keep playing the game, but the man shakes his head.

"That's not part of the game. You don't pay someone for a service they haven't done yet. They could just walk away and not do it. No, you pay afterwards. So, blow Wiley's brains out and you'll receive your pay."

"Why? Does human life mean so little to you? Why me of all people would you choose to kill someone?" I scream at the camera, my head screaming to equal volumes. My stress was consuming me and I was losing my calm.

"Tick tock, Brenna. And you know you want to," I look back at Wiley, who's unconscious on the ground. "You hate him, you know it. He's physically harmed you, your friend, humiliated you, came after your new friends twice now, and fully intended on killing you today." I raise my gun as he speaks the words, and I know I shouldn't. "Your mother would want you too as well." With that, I lost it.

"How do you know my mom! Was it you?!" I scream.

"I'll tell you everything, if you just shoot him. Do it. It's the right thing to do anyway, he's scum." I cock my gun my finger squeezing the trigger slightly. Sweat forms on my brow. My knees and hands shake. But I could have every answer I've ever wanted if I just shoot this disgusting man.

But does that make me any better than him? No. It doesn't. My mom wouldn't want this. I'll find out how she died on my own. This isn't how it will happen, I will never trade a life for my own personal gain. I'll remember this. I'll fucking remember this, if it takes me weeks, months, or years. I have to remember this. I lower the gun, and before I can say no, the man on the screen says, "Huh, I really thought she'd shoot. Don't worry, we'll ruin you yet Brenna. Until next time."

Something sharp stabs my neck, and all goes black.


	13. Chapter 13

_Barney's POV_

I hadn't been gone more than maybe four hours when I got the call that Drummer had picked up on Church. And that he was in New Orleans. And not five seconds later, Gunnar calls me about Wiley. Something had been off about the connection, but all I knew was that I had to get to Brenna fast. So we'd postponed the job we were on now and headed back.

I had landed and geared up in a matter of hours, and Brenna still wasn't home. It was now dark outside. Fear like no other gripped my stomach and the longer she was missing, the more I was panicked.

"Don't worry, Barney, we'll find her," Christmas roughly grabs my shoulder while we pace back and forth in front of Thorns computer scanners.

"Can't this thing do any better?" I growl at him. He glares at me.

"I'm doing all I can, more than I can, to get her back Barney," he snarls at me, and it shocks me.

"Easy guys, we'll get her back," Luna says softly.

"Fuck this, I'm going to find her," I throw on my jacket but then my phone starts ringing.

"Drummer, not a good time"

"Oh yes it is. Anonymous tip. I.e, someone wants you to find her. Brenna is in a warehouse outside of town. I'm sending the coordinates to Thorns computer. We've got the place ground sweeped. If it's rigged or a trap, they've done a supernatural job of hiding it. But be careful."

He doesn't have a chance to tell me twice before I hand up the phone and all of us are racing toward the door.

We get to the swamplands and it's dead quiet. Not a soul insight, nor a camera.

"I'm not picking up anyone on the heat scanners Barney. But…"

Thorn trails off.

"What?"

"There one heat signature inside, on the ground. And then eight cold signatures… dead," he explains.

"Let's go!" I rush the building and everyone follows. Wiley's seven men are dead on the ground, and Wiley is next to them. There isn't a soul around, nor any guns, equipment, or cars. The warehouse is empty. And in the center, laid across the floor, is Brenna. I drop my rifle and race toward her. Her eyes are shut, but I don't see any signs of trauma or injury. I look at all of her exposed skin, and notice a small speck of blood on her neck. Sedative.

"What the hell happened here," I say mostly to myself.

"Looks like Church found Wiley. But why did he keep her alive? And why are they all dead? You don't think Brenna…?" Christmas trails off.

"No. Wiley looks fucked up, I have no doubt that was her. But she wouldn't have killed them. No way. She's not like me. And it wouldn't explain why she's alive and sedated. If Church was here, she would've been dead."

"I don't like this Barney," Toll Road says.

"Let's get her out of here and get home. Maybe she knows something," Thorn offers. I nod, but I hoped she knew nothing. I prayed she knew nothing. She may try to kill me if she did. But I guess I'll know when she wakes.

She was asleep, unconscious, in her bed again for the second time in 48 hours. But this time it was ridiculous how long she'd been out. She was going on her eleventh hour, and while most everyone had stayed here, they'd fallen to sleep. Except Thorn and I. And I know why he didn't fall asleep. Reagan hadn't gone to sleep either, and she felt like shit. And she was livid. With everyone. We had no choice but to tell her everything when she saw us gearing up with rifles, shotguns, Kevlar vests, etc. But she didn't know the extent of how deep it went between Church, Brenna's mother, and I. She just knew we were mercenaries and that the events were unrelated. And we had to beg her not to say anything. Brenna was smart, but she was also reserved and knew when she didn't need to know information. She likely knew what I did for a living to a degree, but didn't need to know the details. And, from what I had told her, it was getting harder and harder every day to lie. And everyone hated me for it. And I hated myself for it.

Eventually, Reagan was on board. She hated herself for lying to her. It was going to kill her to do it. And she went to her spare room immediately after Doc had examined and determined Brenna would be alright with whatever was injected in her. But we still had yet to discover what she knew. From what Doc said, it was unlikely that she knew very much. The sedative was obviously strong.

But now Thorn and I sat in the various bean bag chairs she wanted in her room. The thought made me smile. I remember making fun of her for wanting them.

" _You really need three gigantic bean bags?"_

" _Yup!"_

" _Aren't these for children?" She turns to me with a goofy expression._

" _Yup!"_

" _We can get you regular, different lounge chairs-"_

" _Nope! Bean bags!" She grabbed another and shoved them on top of the small IKEA cart. I laughed._

" _Alright, was pretty sure we're born twenty years ago but apparently you were only born ten years ago," I teased. She sent me a sour look._

" _Hey, if you weren't there for those twenty years, don't complain about the outcome," she glared at me but she was still teasing. I laughed, and held up my hands in a sign of defeat._

" _Alright kid, you've got me."_

That was the first time she'd over joked and acted like she was okay with my absence. That was when everything started feeling normal around her. And right afterwards she begged for me to get her an oatmeal cookie, she really was a child.

And now I'm sitting at her bedside again because I was her unlucky charm. It was hard having her around knowing that I was the reason she was here in the first place. Wiley wouldn't have come back if it wasn't for Church. The man had gone full psycho. But if I pushed her away now, she'd be in more danger. I had no option now. And I owed the guys a shit ton for all the tip-toeing they'd been doing.

Thorn hasn't spoken a word to me since we sat down beside each other. He hadn't left her side, and for weeks I've seen why. He was falling in love with her. And maybe he already did love her. I had no idea if they were together or not, but they definitely seemed like friends and they liked each other. It shouldn't bother me, I'm barely her father and she's twenty years old. But Thorn was a mercenary like me. He wasn't as dead inside, but someday he may be. And Brenna could deserve better. But I wasn't going to say that to him nor her, that would only encourage them. But I also had a personal bias, it didn't work for Sabrina and I because I put her in danger. But Brenna was already in danger because I was her father. Does that mean it wouldn't matter?

A realization strikes me that I would rather have Thorn be with her. He can protect her if something were to happen to me, he can be there at all times when I can't. He may not be able to offer her a future, but if she's going to be in danger because of me, her love life and family life may as well be able to protect her. As if she needed it.

I saw the way Wiley's face was busted up. If it wasn't a dark moment, I could even say I had fathers pride. She'd changed me so much in the last couple of weeks. She was fun to be around, and everyone knew it. She was carefree, not sensitive, knew how to laugh and joke, and most of all, she was incredibly kind. She put on a good show about being tough but she was just wholeheartedly good. She'd been taking care of anyone that walked in that door for two weeks. With being hungry all the way to relationship troubles. Just like Sabrina, she was perfect. And even Thorn had sensed this because he snatched her up so quickly. If he even had already, I still had no idea if anything was going on between them. But, for my own sanity and because it needed to be addressed, I finally spoke up.

"You love her," I state openly, because I don't know how to approach this. I expect him to whip his head around, deny it, or try to avoid the question. Instead, he keeps his eyes on her face.

"Yes." He spoke with such certainty, and didn't elaborate further. I nod.

"Okay." Now he whips his head around.

"Okay?"

"I can't tell you no. She's an adult and so are you. Besides… I… know you. And I wouldn't trust an outsider. And you can keep her safe if god forbid something happened to me," I admitted begrudgingly. Thorn was trying to keep from smiling and turned back to her face.

"You do know she'll hate you when she finds out," I warn. Thorn sighs.

"I know. But she'll hate you too. She'll hate everyone. I wish you wouldn't keep it a secret anymore," he gives me a look. I shake my head.

"If we get rid of Church before he gets to her again, I won't have to tell her."

"And what about her mom? She still expects an explanation. She wants your help."

"I know. I have a plan. Wrong place, wrong time. Someone got the wrong person. It'll be hard to accept, but eventually she'd believe it."

"It's sick the amount of lying you're forcing me and everyone else to do. She's going to find out. If she hasn't already. Even if she doesn't remember anything, she'll know something's up after this."

All of this was true. I was digging myself a deeper hole. I shook my head.

"I won't tell her until I have to." Thorn opens his mouth, and then closes it again.

"Fine. Your choice."

"Thank you, Thorn."

It was silent again.

"Have you guys… I mean are you guys?" I ask and Thorn laughs quietly.

"Relax, I won't be calling you a father in law for a long time. She doesn't know how I feel. But she knows I'm interested."

"And?" Thorn cocks an eyebrow.

"And? Do you really want to hear the details of our relationship, as her father?" he says in his most deadpan voice. I chuckle.

"I guess not." It grows silent again and Thorn suddenly smiles warmly at Brenna.

"You should've seen her today. She was amazing. Incredibly level headed, calm, knew exactly what to do. Saved Reagan's life, again. If Wiley had taken Reagan with Brenna, Church would've shot Reagan to be away with her. Brenna doesn't even realize she saved her life. And the moment the gun shot rang out, Reagan reacted the way I would expect anyone to. Not Brenna. She sprung into action, she tried to run forward and grab Tool out of the way. I held her back of course, but she looked around for any kind of weapon. And when she realized we were basically screwed and someone was going to get hurt, she made it very simple and easy for Wiley. So much so that I think it confused him. He came in angry as all hell, expecting a fight. And Brenna knew that. She calmly went with him, and faked an excuse to aid Tools shoulder before she left. And apparently, he said he'd never seen her so authoritative. She knew what she had to do to keep us safe and herself. She even has your barking out orders voice, it shocked Caesar and Gunnar," Thorn shook his head in amazement. Tool appeared in the doorway, and I frowned because he should be resting.

"She told me she couldn't take care of keeping us safe and keep herself safe, so she had to basically life everyone away," Tool days from behind us. He's leaning against the door frame. "She was so calm. It almost seemed like an instinct. She just… knew what she had to do," Tool looked at her proudly. I'm sure I mocked his expression.

"She'd be good in this profession," Thorn jokes. I give him a look. Everyone knows how much I hate it when they infer that. Nevertheless, I was intensely proud of how she handled things. My team, though I'd never say it out loud, truly was my family as well. And while her decision was stupid and dangerous, it was incredibly brave and it likely saved everyone's lives. I had mixed feelings on how I was going to handle this.

Eventually, Tool goes back downstairs and I think Thorn has fallen asleep in his chair. I kick the bean bag and he jerks awake.

"Go make us a pot of coffee, will ya?" I ask. He nods and groggily leaves the room. The door shuts loudly, and with the noise, Brenna shoots up in bed with a loud gasp. She's breathing heavily, and looking around like a wild animal. Her ripped grey t-shirt is soaked in sweat. I shoot up from my spot.

"Brenna, hey, it's okay," I try to soothe her but she pushes me away, stumbling and running toward the door. I try to grab her, but she truly was fast. I call her name loudly. She runs downstairs, her black hair falling from her ponytail as she runs. When she gets downstairs, the commotion has caused everyone to wake up.

"Brenna?" Luna asks, confused. Brenna looks at her like she's a demon. She glares at everyone.

"Whoa okay, what's wrong? Brenna? Can you hear us? Are you with us?" Doc says, approaching her slowly. Brenna backs away, still completely silent. Her face is tear streaked, her eyes red and swollen.

"What's wrong with her?" Christmas asks. Doc holds up a hand telling him to be quiet. I'm behind Doc, but he's telling me to stay put too.

"I've seen this drug before. It was used on me in that shithole I was in. You're in and out for hours, each time waking up with powerful hallucinations. Usually of what has traumatized you the most. She could be freaking out about anything right now. Her mom, the car accident, what she just went through. She won't remember a thing though. Which means I doubt she knows anything," Doc explains and I tense up.

"Doc, are you sure she can't hear us? And how do you know it's the same drug if you can't remember the effects?" Doc gives me a pained stare.

"When it's put into your system enough times, you remember. Besides, after a few years, the memories of the hallucinations come back. But it'll just feel like a distant nightmare you once had. Nothing more," he whispers, PTSD still gripping him. Right on cue, Brenna lurches forward and tackles him to the ground at an impressive speed.

"Brenna!" I yell and go to pry her off of him. I get her off but then she's fighting me. I shake her, trying to wake her up.

"Won't do any good, we need to restrain her!" Doc yells, clutching his jaw where she punched him.

"Damn, what the fuck kind of drug is this shit?" Caesar yells over the commotion.

"A mix of sedative, scopolamine, and traces of potent THC. Otherwise the injection itself would cause excruciating pain, but it's usually used for interrogation purposes. So they can't have the subject in pain the whole time," Doc explains while I'm still trying to wrestle Brenna down. She breaks free, and knees my rib cage and connects her elbow to my eye. I groan and drop to the floor, surprised by her strength. Thorn comes at her next, but she grabs the hand he grabs her with, twists his wrist and in a move even Yang would've found impressive, throws him and his whole body weight over her shoulder.

"How the fuck does this chick know judo? Or martial arts?" Toll Road says, completely shocked. Thorn glares at him.

"Perhaps you could try helping!" Toll Road holds up his hands in defeat before Brenna stops fighting suddenly and sobs violently. She drops to her knees, and clutches a hand over her mouth. She sobbing and shaking her head, staring off into the distance. Doc gets up once more.

"Brenna?"

"No. No, no, no, no, no. I can't. It hurts. Please. It hurts so much. Just make it stop. Please make it stop," she rocks back and forth, clutching her head. Her concussion. The sight is so heart wrenching, I want to wrap her in my arms and ride out the pain with her. But I have no idea when she'll go nuts again.

"Brenna. It's Doc. You're in there somewhere. Fight it. It's just your concussion. It's nothing else. It's in your head. You're alright," Doc takes her hands. She breathes in deep, but she's still sobbing and shaking her head.

"No you don't understand. You can't. How could you. He hurt her. He's hurting me. He'll do it again," she sobs. My heart drops. She's talking about Church, and her mother. She knows something's wrong.

"Barney, she won't remember a thing. Get what you can out of her now," Doc leads me over to her and I shake my head.

"I can't. This is wrong. This is like me using the drug for interrogation purposes. I can't-"

"Dammit Barney, you chose this! You chose to be the liar! If you want to keep her in the dark so bad, you better kill that son of a bitch quickly! So do it!" Gunnar roars at me. I glare at him but Brenna grabs my hand.

"He's coming back. There will be no notice. No alarm. It's his choice. His choice." She sobs incoherent sentences. I try to make sense of them.

"Who's coming back?"

"The faceless man. I won't know," her voice grows quieter and I realize she's starting to fade out again.

"His choice? What's the faceless man planning, Brenna?"

"We won't know. We have to play the game. He decides when to move the pawns. We're the pawns," she sobs.

"Holy fucking shit. It's a warning. Church must've told her some kind of warning as she was going under. There's no way she'd remember it so clearly. Fuck. This is bad. Church knows where we are. We need to leave," Doc informs us. Brenna gasps.

"No! No. Leave is a bad word. Bad things come when we use that word," she hisses. It was unnerving to see her in this animal like state. It's not even Brenna who I'm looking at. Doc can tell I'm getting freaked out.

"It's not her, Barney. It's the drug. Just keep that in mind," he encourages. But I think he fails to realize that I'm basically using the drug in my daughter's system to interrogate her on what she knows on Church. It was… almost traumatizing.

"Why is leave a bad word?" I ask her calmly.

"He'll hurt me. Just me." It was incredible how Church managed to weave in these threats.

"So, he's coming for us. We can't do anything about it, we're sitting ducks, and he'll kill her if she leaves. Perfect," Mars scoffs, and Smilee nudges him telling him to be quiet.

"What do we do?" Luna asks.

"We'll play out the game, but if Church is watching us that closely that means he's close. Which means Drummer can find him. He'll keep an eye on the area. Someone call him, tell him what we know," I order.

"So we just be a bunch of chicken shits and ask the agency to save our asses?" Toll Road. I sigh.

"It's not great. But if we try to make a run for it, we could get killed. If we have the agency's side, we could stand a chance at outsmarting him."

"And no one is going to ask the most important question?" Smilee asks.

"What?"

"If he wants us dead, why is he dicking around about it?"

Everyone goes silent.

"He likes to play," Brenna whispers, eerily answering the question in her state.

The man was just a shell, and what was replaced was nothing but darkness and chaos.

* * *

Brenna had finally gone back to sleep, Doc assured me she wouldn't remember a thing. Doc had to hook up an IV to her, now that he realized what an intense drug was in his system.

"She'll be out a while longer. But considering a first time use, and the amount, she won't be up again... I'm… I'm sorry, Barney. I know this is hard for you," Doc sympathizes.

"Mostly everyone just glares or yells at me for lying," I mutter. Doc scoffs.

"We don't agree with it. But this is getting fucked up," he says, and I laugh bitterly in agreement. Brenna had been transferred to the couch so everyone could keep an eye on her. No one was sleeping now. Docs jaw was swollen, my eye was bruising, and Thorns shoulder joint was sore. I smirked.

"What?" Doc asked.

"At least there was one good thing that came out of today," I look at Brenna's face with obvious paternal pride.

"What?" Gunnar grumps.

"My girl can fight," I patted her hand without the IV, and everyone kind of laughed to themselves. It was surprising how strong she was too.

"It might be a good idea to teach her a few extra moves, and how to handle a gun," Christmas suggested. I nodded in agreement.

"I've been thinking the same thing. Honestly I would move to see her live through the week," I groan, and Christmas laughs.

"Yeah I take back what I said, she doesn't have your luck," Christmas jokes.

"Did I originally have luck?"

"Hell no," everyone says. I laugh.

Eventually, everyone goes home. Even Thorn. They need to shower, but Thorn will probably be back with a packed bag, unjokingly. Tool went to sleep, he needed to rest after today. It took a million years off his life to bring that violence back in his life, he'd done a good job transitioning to just a tattoo artist. His gunshot wasn't threatening at all, it just needed three stitches. Doc fixed him up.

I sat there, groggy and anxious, waiting for Brenna to wake up. Thorn got back before she woke up, and took his spot on the couch beside me.

"You know, you've been by her side for a full 24 hours now. You need sleep," he offered. I shook my head.

"No. I'm fine," but he was right. I was pretty grouchy, and would remain so until she woke up. So Thorn stayed quiet for what seemed like forever, but the last 24 hours felt like years.

"You love her too, you know," he says softly. I sighed, closing my eyes in pain and anguish, showing full vulnerability.

"I know."


	14. Chapter 14

_Brenna's POV_

The darkness was finally beginning to lift, after endless sleep. I thought I had died. It was so empty. I felt a heavy hand on my hand, and the other had an IV attached. My eyelids finally fluttered open, and I was in the living room of the parlor. The lights were dimmed, which my head appreciates. The only person in sight was Barney, and he was slumped over with his head in his hand. I moved my hand from under his and his head shot up in a second.

"Hey, how're you feeling kid?" he asked gently. I opened my mouth to respond but I couldn't rasp out the words, like I'd been screaming my head off or something. He reaches behind him and hands me a bottle of water. I take it gratefully and sip down the deliciously cool liquid. He helps me sit up and I look around.

"Where is everyone?" I ask. Barney frowns.

"Most of them are at home, sleeping. Thorn is upstairs in your room asleep. I finally convinced him to get some rest." I felt my face get hot.

"Huh. Weird," I comment, but Barney gives me a deadpan look.

"Is it that weird?" he says sarcastically, and I give him a sheepish grin. We're busted.

"No… I'm sorry Barney, I just thought it may be awkward-"

"It's fine. You're both adults. I can handle it. I care more about how you're feeling," he asks me. I shrug.

"Confused. Angry. Upset," I say and look down, ashamed.

"Well let's start with confused."

"How long have I been out?"

"About 28 hours now," he tells me, and my eyes pop out of my head.

"What?!" I yelp, and he pushes me back onto the couch more.

"You were sedated. A hell of a powerful one. What do you last remember?"

What did I last remember? Wiley was here. He broke in… no… no wait he was let in. Tool!

"Is Tool ok?" I ask frantically, and Barney nods.

"Flesh wound. Is that where your memory stops?" he asks. I close my eyes, trying to remember anything else. There was something… something really important. But it was probably just something to do with Wiley. I remembered leaving.

"I can just barely remember being in an SUV, but that's it. I don't remember getting in it, where it went, and how I got back. How did I get back?" I ask.

"I found you," he said simply.

"How?" He scoffs.

"Wiley wasn't exactly a smart guy, anyone could've followed his stench. He wasn't exactly hiding," I snort.

"Yea I could see that. What happened? There were seven men, how did you get me back?"

"Do you remember Drummer, the man who paid Wiley off to leave you alone? He's with the CIA, undercover. He… took care of them," he explained. I whistled lowly.

"You've got some scary friends, Barney," I mutter, and he grimaces.

"Tell me about it. Anyway, you were sedated when we got there. From the looks of their faces, it looked like you already busted up a couple," he smirks. I look down at my hands and see the cuts and bruises on my knuckles. I look up and notice a bruise on Barney's right eye.

"What happened there?" I ask.

"Oh this? I went in with Drummer to find you. Fought my way in with him," he explains. I frown.

"You could've been hurt. Or killed," I chastised. He gives me a "are you a dumbass" look and I laugh.

"I could say the same to you. I'm proud of you for protecting everyone and handling yourself, but don't ever just walk out with someone like that again, ok? And I want you to take a few extra martial arts lessons. And how to handle a weapon. Just in case," his tone was of a stern father, and I knew better than to argue. I just nodded.

"What happened to Wiley?" I ask. Barney tenses.

"This time, he really _won't_ be a problem anymore," he growls, and it's a voice I've never heard him use. It's cold, and dark. And so angry. I gulp, and look down. "I didn't mean to scare you. Drummer took care of that, I just got you out," he speaks slowly, as if talking to a cornered animal. I nod. And for the first time I see the anxiety and crippling exhaustion around his eyes.

"Barney, have you been awake this whole time?" I lecture. He nods. "You need to go to sleep."

"I will when I know you'll be okay. Why are you upset?" he asks. Now that we've reached this issue, I don't want to talk. I don't want him to know how ashamed, how stupid, and how sorry I felt for bringing around all this drama. Instead, I look away and shrug. "Brenna… you can talk to me about anything." I nod, but my tears well in my eyes. _Shit._ I _hate_ crying. How pathetic am I? My throat swells and aches from the tears I don't allow to fall.

"I'm sorry," I whisper through my tightened throat, and he pulls me into a hug that causes my tears to flow freely.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. This was Wiley. Not you."

"And if I hadn't come around, Wiley wouldn't have shot Tool, he wouldn't have threatened your friends, he wouldn't have kidnapped me. All of this is my fault, Barney, and I'm so sorry," I weep quietly. He rubs my shoulder soothingly, being very uncharacteristically gentle.

"And if you hadn't come around, Thorn would be alone. If you hadn't come around, we wouldn't have another person to add to our family. If you hadn't come around, I wouldn't have a strong, brave daughter that I'm incredibly proud of," he grips me tighter, and his words stop my flow of tears. Instead I just hug him back, because sometimes you just need your dad to hug you through things.

Eventually, my IV was removed by Doc and everyone was filing back in. Thorn was still asleep upstairs and apparently so was Reagan, but I needed to change my clothes and shower. So after everyone had given me their welcome back hugs or talks, I excused myself to shower. Barney frowned but said okay, as if I was asking permission.

I tiptoed into my room, shutting and locking the door quietly. Thorns quiet snores came from bed, so I grabbed my short white robe and a towel and jumped in the shower. It felt really good to scrub my scalp, and wash the grime off. I hated having black hair sometimes, it always showed grease. I let the hot, steamy air unclog my pores and scrubbed and shaved every inch of my body just to make myself feel even better. And when I was done, I wrapped my hair briefly in a towel, and wrapped my white robe around me. I walked over to my mirror and towel dried my hair as much as my thick hair would take it and then ran a comb through. It was a wild mess, like usual, but I liked it. I turned off the bathroom light and tiptoed out. My eyes weren't adjusted to the darkness from the bathroom, so I couldn't see anything in front of me.

"Brenna?" I hear Thorn ask.

"Hey, sorry I didn't mean to wake you-"

I'm interrupted when two hands back me up and trap me against the bathroom door, and Thorns lips capture mine in a fantastic kiss. He's breathy and passionate, like he's never going to kiss me again. He weaves his hands in my hair, and I wrap my arms around him tightly.

"Oh Brenna, I missed you," he groans, and I realized he was incredibly worried and that's what this is about. I kiss up his jaw, to his ear, and down his neck.

"I'm here. I'm right here. Not going anywhere," I whisper into his ear, and he picks me up by the waist and takes me to the bed. He sits down and makes me straddle him, which was awkward considering I'm not wearing underwear. But hot. His hands travel up and down my back, and to my waist as he kisses my neck. He pulls part of my robe down and kisses across my collarbone. I moan quietly.

"I had no idea you'd be so worried," I whisper through passion. Thorn scoffs bitterly.

"Yeah you were kidnapped, sedated for like 30 hours, all with a concussion and I had no idea if you were dead or not after you drove off. What do you remember?" he asks, and I relay the information for the million time tonight. He's listening, but kissing everywhere he can. His hand travels farther south, caressing my thigh gently. I push him onto the bed and crawl up, trapping him with my legs on either side of his waist. He groans and grips my hips tightly. His hand travels to the apex of my thighs, and back down again. He repeats this gentle stroking motion until I'm sweating and hot. I rip off his shirt and kiss down his bare chest. He stops stroking my thighs and grips them tightly. I get to his jeans and undo the top button with my teeth, to which he stops me and brings me back to his lap.

Soon, I'm on my back, my robe is half off but I'm still decently covered, and Thorn is equally half naked. He stops for a moment, and looks down at me with an adoring smile.

"Ethan," he says. My brows furrow. "My name. Ethan." I grin from ear to ear and pull his face down to meet mine once more.

"It only took the fear of death to get you to fess up. So easy," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. Thorn laughs, whipping me to the side and pulling me to his chest. He was just holding me now.

"I was so worried about you," he murmurs. I kiss his chest.

"I'm good. Nothing a huge, cheesy pizza can't fix. And maybe cookies. I feel like cooking," I nuzzle the nook of his neck. He chuckles.

"You spoil us with your cooking, you know. Gonna make us fat," he teased.

"Just wait until thanksgiving," I sigh, snuggling deeper into his chest. He wraps his arms around me tighter.

"We should probably get up and get downstairs before anyone says anything," he whispers in my ear. I smile and nod, thinking of how annoyed Barney would be.

I got dressed after Thorn left, wrapping myself in baggy grey sweatpants and a black tank top. I wrap a sweater around my waist just in case and head down stairs. This time, Reagan is awake.

"Brenna!" she sobs, launching herself into my arms. I gather her in my arms as she cries quietly.

"I'm okay, just starving. I was going to cook, if you're hungry," I offer. She wipes her face, nodding with a smile. But she looked… off. Like she was more upset about something else.

"Are you play?" I ask, and she tended but nods once more. Which is equally odd. She always had something to say.

"Just really glad you're okay. And… thankful. That you saved my life. Again," she mutters. I scoff.

"I doubt Wiley would have killed you. Anyway, I want pizza. And cookies. I don't even care if it's all junk, I'm starving, I was dead for the last day and a half, and I deserve it," I stride toward the kitchen as Tool walks in and I freeze. Guilt and dread fill the pit of my stomach and I loose my appetite. But he's all smiles.

"Hey darlin, how're you feeling?" he asks, but I just stare at his bandaged shoulder. That was my fault. _My fault._ Tears fill my vision again but I shake them away with a smile.

"Good," I say briefly and continue my brisk walk to the kitchen. But I see Tools confusion on his face, and I hear him follow me.

"You sure?" he asks quietly so no one hears. I glance around to make sure no one is watching.

"How's… how's your shoulder?" I ask hoarsely. A stupid tear falls down my cheek, and Tool wipes it away quickly.

"It wasn't your fault. And a lot worse could have happened if you hadn't acted so fast. So I owe you a thank you," he puts his hands on my shoulders forcing me to look at him. I nod, but still felt like shit. He pulled me into a hug, and it made me feel a little bit better.

I started cooking, enjoying the stress relief it brought. I watched the familiar show of Tool, Doc, and Lee arguing over throwing knives. Luna, Mars, Smilee, and Thorn were watching TV. Toll Road, Caesar, Gunnar, and Barney were all playing cards. It was nice to see everything back to normal. Reagan sat at the bar counter in the kitchen on her phone.

"Why aren't you talking to Smilee?" I ask. She glares at me.

"We aren't in a good place right now." Her tone of voice tells me to back off so I raise my hands in defeat.

"Alright then, touchy," I mutter. I put Saran Wrap over the pizza dough to allow it to raise and take a spot at the kitchen counter next to Reagan. I leaned against my hand and closed my eyes, resting my head from the strain of the lights.

As soon as I shut my eyes, my mind snaps and a shiver runs across my body.

" _You don't look nervous. You should be."_

 _Wiley sneers._

" _What's there to be nervous about? I owe you money, we're gonna solve the problem."_

My mind jumps back to the present and jump awake in my chair. I was remembering things. This was good. Reagan looks at me weirdly, but doesn't glance at me again. I close my eyes, concentrating, trying to remember more. All it brought was a headache.

Eventually the pizza was made, and everyone had jumped up and ate pretty much all of it. It was rare that I had leftovers.

"Brenna, is your Nintendo switch set up upstairs yet?" Reagan asks.

"Uh, yeah should be. Why?" I ask. She grins.

"Can we play Mario Kart?" she beams, her eyes sparkling. I narrow my eyes.

"I'm player one," I state childishly. She narrows her eyes, and we both bolt upstairs fighting and shoving the whole way up. I hear people laughing downstairs, and then they follow to the upper part of my room (which was now a lounge area) to see what the commotion is about.

Soon it's a whole tournament, with all of the younger people playing and the elders watching. I offered to teach Barney how to play, but he politely refused. Old people.

It's going well, until Reagan spins me out and knocks me out of first.

"Eat shit, you slut!" I yell at her, and chuck a pillow at her. Gunnar and Toll Road find mh reaction hilarious and laugh. She laughs evilly in response to me. Everyone passes me while I'm trying to correct my course, and I get so frustrated I toss the controller on the floor.

"Fuck this, you suck. Everyone sucks. Fuck you," I grumble at Reagan, pouting.

"Sore loser much?" Lee cocks an eyebrow and I glare at him, the same glare Barney gives him.

"She's always been like that. It's pitiful," Reagan throws the pillow back, hits me in the head, and while it does hurt a little, I act like it hurts a lot to make her feel bad. She drops the controller, losing her lead, and gets up to check on me.

"Brenna, I'm so sorry-"

"Gotcha, sore loser my ass. Who's losing now?" I smile cockily at her, and she jumps on the bean bag I'm lounging on and attacks me.

"You guys are so obnoxious," Smilee grumbles under his breath. Reagan's face falls. _Goddammit_ what was his problem? He got what he wanted from her and now he's down? Is that it? I feel my temper starting to boil, and Reagan can tell I'm about to blow a gasket.

"Brenna. Chill," she warns, giving me an "it's-ok" look. I pursed my lips, considering whether or not to take her advice and not tell Smilee to walk into traffic. After three weeks, his attitude was getting on my nerves. At least Mars was just quiet. Luna frowned at Smilee, and shakes her head at me, signaling that whatever I was thinking wasn't worth it.

Reagan and I share the bean bag for the rest of the night, and eventually it's in the early morning hours. People have gone home, Reagan has gone home for the first time in forever, and it was just Barney, Tool, and I. Like it usually was this time of night.

"Don't you two ever sleep?" Tool asks.

"Nah," we both say, after I talked him into playing a hand of Uno with me. He looked hilarious sitting there trying to be serious with a hand of Uno cards. But he glances up at me with a concerned look.

"You should try and get some sleep though. You've have a rough week," he comments. I snort.

"Story of my life," I mutter, laying down a draw four. Barney's mouth twitches in annoyance, and I laugh.

"Now what do I do?" he asks. I tell him to draw four and that he couldn't take his turn. Tool takes a seat next to us, drawing in his tattoo portfolio. I get distracted by looking at his designs, and he notices and grins.

"Want another one?" he gestures to the almost healed tattoo on my wrist. I smile.

"Mainly just admiring your work."

"Why didn't you become an artist?" Barney asks. I sigh.

"In the simplest of ways to explain: my mom died. My grades slipped, I lost whatever scholarships I had for college. And the schools I applied to said my art was too street level. Which I guess meant they thought I was a graffiti artist or something. But honestly? I think my art work started to reflect the way I felt on the inside, and took a dark turn. No one in the artistic community paints their soul. They paint what sells. Which could be anything deemed abstract. Portraits, landscapes, anything like that are of the past now. And apparently I just… I don't know. Showed how human I was. And the world takes people like that and shoves them away until they make you out to be exactly like them. So I tried to get it a second time, but ultimately gave up. The world was trying to tell me something. I had to listen. So I left Dennis's house where I was staying and went out on my own. Just to get some better perspective. Been on my own since. Until three weeks ago. But now that I have a chance to re-try? I don't want to. I'm not meant to be part of that world. My art and what I do will have to find home somewhere else. Just have to find where," I explain, probably too much. Tool and Barney stay silent for a moment, and share a look. Until Tool turns to be with a gleam in his eye.

"How would you feel about taking up an apprenticeship here?"

My heart catapults into overdrive. A job? He's offering me a job in his parlor? As an artist?

"Are you serious?" I ask quietly. He grins.

"Yea, I mean, the shops gotten more popular recently. I fill up appointments daily. It'd be nice to have someone to split it up with. It would be a while before I'd let you ink someone because, like I said, it's an apprenticeship. But I think you'd like it-"

"Tool I would love that. Thank you," I accept his offer, with a giant smile on my face. Which is wiped off when Barney lays down a draw four.

Later on that night, or I guess morning, I tossed and turned in my bed out of excitement for this job. Maybe this is what I needed, and where I belonged. But despite the excitement, my body was exhausted and I managed to fall asleep.

" _It's what's right. You know it is. He's hurt you, they all have." An achingly familiar voice hisses into my ear._

 _The gun, shaking with my hand, lowered to his head. He had his back to me, I couldn't see his face. But his frame was familiar._

 _I couldn't see his face, didn't know who he was. But I knew he had hurt me. He hurt the ones I loved. He would do it again. I cocked the gun._

" _Him first. And then the others. They deserve it. It just takes two seconds of a decision. And all the pain will go away."_

 _Pain. The pain was unbearable. It ate away at my skin, crawling it's way into my internal organs and chewing its way through those. I screamed as I felt the acid-like burning. The gun still held to his head. All I had to do was pull the trigger. And it would stop._

 _The shot rang out. His body slumped to the ground, facing toward me now._

 _Barney._

" _No. No it wasn't him. You lied. He had nothing to do with this," I screamed at the faceless man behind me. He cackled._

" _Everyone lies to you. Everyone does. The best way to avoid the hurt and lies, is to be alone," he spins me back around and everyone was on their knees in front of me. Reagan, Thorn, Luna, Tool, Christmas, Gunnar, everyone._

 _I put the gun up to Thorns head, who only stares at me blankly. The pain starts it's way across my skin again. The only way to get rid of it, is to shoot._

 _Another shot rings out._

I launch up in bed with a scream, a loud one. I cover my mouth but it's too late. I hear Barney upstairs jump to his feet. I wipe the sweat from my forehead as he busts into the room with a giant knife.

"Brenna?" he asks.

"I'm here," I choke, out of breath from the nightmare. He sets the knife down on my dresser and races over.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Barney asks frantically, checking me over. Tool appears in the doorway, with an actual gun. For a moment, it startles me. But it seems as though they have made a more rapid appearance in my life now.

"Jesus guys, what's with the armed forces? I just had a nightmare," I rasp, wiping more sweat from my brow. The nightmare was still giving me anxious cold sweats, and I still felt myself shaking. _In all seriousness though, what was that about? I've never had a nightmare so bad. Maybe it was the sedative in my system._

"Really? Since when do nightmares make you scream in your sleep?" Barney asks in a deadpan voice. I frown. He had a point.

"I'm remembering some things. The only problem is the more I remember things, the more… this is going to sound weird but the more I remember things, the more I don't want to. Like, it would be better if I just didn't know."

"You're… remembering things you've forgot from when Wiley had you?" Tool asks, but there's an odd undertone to his voice. Like it made him uneasy. I narrowed my eyes slightly. Between Reagan acting weird, Thorn acting like I had died and come back to life, Barney hovering, and everyone's general anxiety that I felt, something was going on. Something big.

"Yes… is there something I'm not supposed to know?" I demand, narrowing my eyes further.

"What do you mean?" Barney asks, seeming genuinely confused. He looked completely concerned, and confused by my statement. So much so that it had me questioning whether or not I was imagining things. I sighed.

"Nothing. I think I'm just getting paranoid. Is it possible that the sedative, or whatever drug Wiley gave me, could be messing with me?" I ask, and Barney thinks for a moment.

"I suppose so, but Doc told me it was harmless. What are you remembering?" Barney asks. I feel my skin get hot and sweaty again, and my head gets a shooting pain. _What could I tell him? That I was remembering having the urge to kill someone? That someone had tried to get me to hurt someone?_

And even moreso, but it had something to do with Barney. Someone wanted me to kill Barney. But who, and why? And of course, I could in no way admit this to Barney without him thinking I was insane and locking me away. I rubbed my head. None of this made sense.

"Are you sure Wiley is dead?" I asked, because he was the only one around me when this drug was in my system. He had no motive for going after Barney, but he was my only lead. And now he's dead.

"Positive. Why?" Barney asked, still concerned. Great. Now I was going to have to lie.

"Nothing. I think I'm just paranoid. Maybe this whole thing bothered me more than I thought," I mutter, shaking myself. Barney nods, but looks unconvinced. But I don't ignore the panicked and worried expression on Tool's face.


	15. Chapter 15

_Barney's POV_

In the month that followed, I watched Brenna become quiet and troubled. Similar to the way she was when she arrived almost three months ago. We'd gone away a couple times for various jobs and each time I came back, she look worse. She had started to lose her color again, she never slept, and she had become jittery and anxious. Tool and I had talked about her having some PTSD. But the way she was acting was beyond that. It was unnerving to watch the reversal over her health. Thorn had even tried talking to her, but she insisted she was fine. I asked Doc if it was the drug that was injected into her system and he assured me it wasn't. We didn't know what was going on with her, but she obviously still didn't know about everything. But the more she went on like this, the guiltier I felt. But now I was in too deep to try to tell the truth to her.

She was staring at the TV aimlessly when Reagan walked in front of her line of sight.

"Alright, you fucking corpse. Spill. What's up. Why are you acting like this?" she demanded, and everyone froze. Brenna just looked up at her shrugged, not even thinking of a witty comment.

"Brenna, come on! What's wrong with you? You're hardly speaking, you never smile anymore, you don't even eat. You've lost at least 5 pounds. Maybe more," Thorn begs her to speak. She turns her pale head to him in an eerie way, and glares. And not her usual playful glare. An actual one.

"When I want an intervention, I'll let you know," she spats in their direction, much to their shock by the vehemence in her voice. She stands swiftly, leaving the room. When I hear her door slam shut, I slam down the paper I'm pretending to look at. That's the final straw.

I follow her upstairs, and when I barge into her room, I hear her upstairs. She's turned on the stereo loudly, and I can hear the rattling chain of the punching bag I got her.

"Brenna!" I shout over the loud music when I walk into her upstairs room. She sees me and sighs, turning down the music.

"What?" she snaps.

"What is your problem anymore?" I demand, and she rips off her gloves.

"What do you mean?" she asks, in a quieter voice. I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"You know what. Brenna… you can talk to me about anything you know," I sit down on her couch, and she frowns.

"I… I keep having nightmares," she whispers. I nod.

"I know. I can hear them at night," I stare in a different direction as her.

"Then you know they're getting worse. I don't sleep. Ever. Barney… I feel like I'm losing my mind. Every time I doze off, I wake up panicking because I fell asleep. I feel like someone is constantly watching me. Like I should be anticipating something to come. The nightmare just keeps… it keeps repeating the same thing. But somehow always worse. The pain I feel in the dream. It's worse every time. I don't know what's happening to me," she whispers, pain clear across her face. _Shit. She's remembering too much. What did Church even do to her to make this so bad?_

"What are you anticipating?" I ask. She gulps.

"Something… bad. Really bad, Barney. You're absolutely positive that Wiley is dead?" she asks for the millionth time. I nod.

"Swear by it. I don't think Wiley did this to you. I think it was that damn drug and it scared you," I offer, and she scoffs and walks away.

"What?" I ask.

"I don't want to be scared! I'm not scared of anything! I never have been. So why, why now all of a sudden am I this pathetic wasteland of fear?" she yells. I sigh.

"I think I know what may help," I tell her, not liking the idea that was in my head.

I stared at Mars and Smilee, who were wheezing on the ground in front of Brenna. I'd decided to give her a few pointers on self defence, but only after a few minutes and a few instructions, Brenna had Mars and Smilee gasping for air as she crushed their windpipes with a punch to the jugular. I turned my bewildered gaze to her. I knew she could fight, which I was thankful to Sabrina for, but I wasn't aware of how good she was. Granted, Mars and Smilee were told to take it easy for her first lesson. But still.

"Brenna… where on earth have you learned this?" I ask. She doesn't even look out of breath, just pissed off and ready for round two. She tightens her ponytail.

"You bought me the punching bag for a reason, did you not?" she mutters.

"Yea, to improve your strength. Not your fighting. Seriously Brenna, that wasn't just self defence. You know a significant amount more of offence than you did," I continue to ask her. She frowns and turns away.

"I've been teaching myself some things," she says quietly.

"Why?"

"Because I have to be ready," she hisses.

"For what?" I ask, and she sighs.

"Something… someone is coming, Barney. I just know. I can't explain it. But someone is coming for me, and I want to be ready. I won't be helpless like last time. I can't be," she's shaking by the end of her eerie warning. I just stare at her, trying to force myself to tell her the truth. She frowns.

"Great. Now you think I'm a psycho."

"No… I think we should move on to target practice," I offer, and her face falls as she nods in agreeance. I take her to my own personal shooting range downtown in the basement of an apartment building. It was in a rougher side of town, so the noise wasn't alarming.

She was good at target practice too, not great, but good. Better than she thought, based on her reaction to the target afterwards. I'm sure my expression mirrored hers. Maybe this shit really is in her blood.

 _No._

She couldn't be a damn thing like me, she already was worlds apart. Though everyone else seemed to enjoy reminding me that she and I were uncanny.

"You know, this is technically illegal," she says.

"Only because you're still 20. I can get you a license when you turn 21," I offer. But her mouth twists in an unimpressed way.

"Why do you have and know all of this?" she gestures around the shooting range I've taken her to. _Shit. She usually doesn't ask questions._

"It's just a passion."

"Seems excessive for just a passion."

"Well you seem to be pretty good at it. Ever practiced before?"

"Hell no. Mom was vehemently against guns, you know that," she scoffs. I laugh slightly. I had forgotten about Sabrina's gun views. She and I were so different, it was odd how we ever managed to work.

"Yea I remember."

"Barney… what happened to her?" she asks quietly. I freeze.

"What do you mean?"

"A few months back, you said you'd help me find out what happened to her. What happened to that? Did you find something?" she asks. She's been so inquisitive lately, not trusting anyone. Not that I'm exactly giving her a reason to.

"No, I just figured you'd moved on," I told her, trying to shut this topic down immediately.

"No. I haven't. Something is up Barney. I know it. And I know that you know something. I'm starting to remember things from that night. But almost like it was more like a dream, a nightmare," she explains, and as she does, my pulse quickens.

"I don't know what you mean, Brenna. Maybe it was a nightmare. And as for your mom… well… maybe it really was just a hit and run, kid," I try to say gently, but even to my ears I sound like an insensitive asshole. She whips her head around.

"What, now you don't believe me either? Since when? You were so keen the day we met to find her. And it's like you've completely disregarded her now. You have this shooting range, access to weapons, everyone here seems to know their way around weapons and knives, everyone can fight, your friends are CIA, you get touchy whenever I ask about the night Wiley took me, so what the hell? What is going on, Barney? I told you months ago as long as you didn't involve me, I didn't care. But now it seems like I am involved and you just haven't told me. Is this something to do with mom?" she demands finally, and I know I've been caught. It was over.

But something inside me tell me to continue trying to shelter her. She look so much like a younger version of Sabrina, and I can see the hurt and fear deep in her eyes. She's strong, and she's capable, but in my eyes, she's still Sabrina. Still caring, compassionate, and most of all, patient. I can't force myself to say the truth, I can't roll the words past my tongue. Instead, my brain rambles out, "No. I told you, your mom isn't involved."

"But I am?" she demands once more.

"Brenna… what I do… it's complicated. The less you know, the better. But I'll tell you this much, it's why your mom didn't stick around. I couldn't tell her everything about what I did. We could never get that close."

"What does that even mean? You say this doesn't involve my mom, but you say things like that. Just tell me what you do for a living," she's yelling at me now, and it's equally humorous and frustrating.

"You look just like your mom when you're upset," I say out loud accidentally. Brenna narrows her eyes.

"Stop trying to avoid the question, Barney."

"Well I can't answer the question, Brenna," I grumble at her, pissed off by my shitty answer and by how much of a pussy I was being. Why couldn't I just be honest for fucking once?

"Godammit, Barney. You question my behavior for the last month, get pissed at me, and openly admit to lying to me about what you do for a living. Just stop being a fucking pansy and say it!" she growls, and it strikes a nerve with how true it is. I square up and soon we're arguing loudly, basically screaming at each other. I hated it, and I could see in her eyes all the trust and friendship built up over the last few months was slowly deteriorating.

"Brenna, please just trust me. I can't tell you everything."

"Blind trust isn't my forte. Especially since you apparently don't believe my mom died suspiciously anymore," she rolls her eyes at me, and my mouth twitches in annoyance.

"Brenna, leave it alone! She's dead! Not coming back!" I shout at her, louder than I ever have. I see the shock and hurt appear in her eyes, and it visibly shakes her. I see her bottom lip tremble, but even though I immediately regret my words, my stupid pride refuses to allow me to apologize. Christmas enters the range, probably coming down to meet me to talk about our next job.

"Everything okay in here?" he asks, but Brenna is already stalking off toward the door. She throws on her jacket.

"Peachy," she snaps, and I narrow my eyes at her.

"Where are you going?" I ask. She whips around with fire in her eyes.

"For a walk," she mutters.

"Don't come back until you want to act like an adult," I yell at her, but she freezes in her tracks. She whirls around once more, with more than fire in her eyes. It's a pure scorched wasteland of hatred. I've never seen her look so angry.

"I'll come back when you want to treat me like one, and tell me the fucking truth," she seethes, and slams the door behind her. My own temper got the best of me, as did hers, and I regret my words immediately. She hasn't done anything wrong, it's just my pride and choices that have led us here.

"Um, what the hell? Does she know?" Christmas asks.

"No. But she knows there's something she doesn't know. Shit. Why didn't I just tell her the truth when I had the chance?"

"Been asking that question for months, but maybe because you're in a shooting range with a firecracker for a daughter. She'd probably shoot you," he jokes, and despite myself, I actually laugh.

"Probably. Alright. It's time to put this to an end. Come on, let's go get her-"

"Barney!" I hear a quiet and distant scream, Brenna's scream, and I take off for the door. I leave the basement and run down the alleyway to see Brenna trying to fight off several large men with rifles. But they were trying to wrestle her into an SUV.

"Brenna!" I yell, running down the street. She was shoving them off, fighting as best she could, but there were too many. And I was too far away, they must've been carrying her. I see a man use the butt of his rifle and connect with her forehead, but she doesn't crumple to the ground. She clutches her head as blood spills from her temple. She whips her head around wildly as I run at her, and I don't mistake the fear I see in her eyes.

Suddenly, I'm knocked off my feet by another man holding Christmas and I back. Brenna continues to try and escape, but it's no use now that she's injured. I drive my fist into the man stalling me, right into his rib cage. I hear a loud crunch and know I've met my goal of cracking his ribs. Christmas is still fighting off his attacker, but I have to get to Brenna first.

They get her to a car door, and throw her in.

"Barney!" she screams again, and this time I've caught up. But the men slam the car door, and smack the side to tell the driver to go. I take out my gun, very quickly shooting the men dead. I run out into the street, chasing the SUV.

"Brenna, no!" I shout as the SUV speeds off, even though I continue to chase it. Christmas catches up to me, and he's huffing.

"Fuck! Did you see who was in the SUV?" he asks. I shake my head, wheezing from running so fast.

"No. But I have a damn good idea who it was. Come on, we need to call Drummer," I race back to my truck, parked two blocks away, and we speed back to the garage. Christmas calls Drummer on the way there and discovered he was waiting.

"Barney, I'm sorry, we tried to reach you. We knew he was back-"

"You could've tried harder!" I roared at him, shocking everyone.

"Well, when we have to babysit you all and keep an out for a lunatic, it can get a little hard to prioritize," Drummer shoves me, and I shove him back. Christmas steps between us.

"We've all made stupid fucking choices! Tearing at each other isn't going to fix anything! We decided to play out Church's game, we decided to try to outsmart him! There is no one person to blame. So knock it off!" He shoves me back away from Drummer. Luna steps forward, attempting to calm me down.

"Barney, we've got everyone looking for her. Thorn is in his trance, his eyes never leave the screen. And if someone wants to find her as much as you, it's him." Gunner rolls his eyes.

"We did this shit last time. This time is different. Church has her. Right now. She could be as good as dead already. Her detached head could be sitting on her pillow case right now-"

Caesar and Toll Road smack him upside the head, and Tool throws a pencil at him. But he was right, and the thought terrified me even more. Everything, every choice I've made to keep her safe, every decision I made for her, was now undone. And she would have to hear the truth from a stranger. Who wanted to kill her. In front of me. The realization hits me. This means she likely isn't dead.

"No. She's not dead. He wants a show. He wants me to see," I explain. Smilee shakes his head.

"Then why didn't he do that with her mother?" he asks. I sigh, frustrated.

"I still don't know."

"Church isn't the same man you guys remember. He's gone completely nutcase. Sadistic. Purely sadistic. Whatever his reasonings, it isn't good. And we need to find her," Drummer says, actually looking worried.

"Find who?" I hear Reagan's voice behind me as she enters the garage, and everyone's face falls. I gulp. Smilee approaches her gently, though I don't know what their relationship status is currently.

"Someone… took Brenna, Reagan. Someone who's been after her for a while. And her mother-"

"You bastards! You could've told her the goddamn truth! She could have been ready, she could have been more careful! I could've warned her! I should have! What the fuck is the matter with you, are all really that selfish?!" she screams at us, easing her way into a hysterical state for her friend. Smilee grabs her and hauls her upstairs, but she's still screaming the place down in anger. I shake my head.

"She's just worried about her, Barney. Don't let it get to your head-" Doc starts, but I cut him off.

"She's right. You were all right. I'm sorry… I kept this lie going for so long. It wasn't right for any of you. My pride has always been my Achilles heel, I couldn't force myself to tell her. She was just… so happy," I mutter, walking away to take a seat. At first she was happy anyway, until Wiley came back.

"Barney… we understand. You did what you thought was the best thing for her," Luna comforts. She's always been the gentlest of all of us, and I give her a smile. Drummer gets a phone call, and leaves the room.

"Where is Thorn?" I ask. They point to the parlor area of the garage, and when I walk through, he's surrounded by his equipment and completely engrossed in his task. He doesn't even hear me walk in. But when he sees me, he glares.

"I know, I know. I already feel like shit, Thorn, just take it easy," I say with my hands in the air.

"All of this. All of this could've been avoided. If you had just told her. the godamn. truth," he hisses through his teeth, his eyes shut in fury. Shit, he's really pissed.

"I know. I'm sorry. I know you care about her, so do I. I need your help-"

"I'm already doing everything I can. Drummer is too. But everything I'm doing… is to get back the woman I love. Not your daughter. This isn't for you," he says lowly. Admittedly, it stings. But I nod in an understanding gesture. Drummer suddenly storms in, with the rest of the team following him anxiously.

"Barney, I don't know what to say but… if we don't find her in the next hour… it could be months before we find him again," he says quietly, and my heart stops.

 _Brenna._

I sit down, and watch the minutes tick by. I've been assured over and over there's nothing for me to do except wait. For anything. And I hate it more than anything. Everything I said to her, every rude and harsh thing I yelled in her face earlier, now stings just a little bit more. What if that was the last conversation we ever had? I recall the hurt and betrayed look she had, how I'd completely ruined what we had with the five seconds it took to lose my temper.

I also recalled the time she woke up, the second time, after she was sedated. How I told her how proud I was to call her my daughter. I still was, incredibly so. She was brave, smart, strong, and also everything I wasn't. Kind, funny, and caring. Sadly, she also had my arrogance and temper. I just hoped those two traits weren't too dominant in her personality, especially right now. Being a smartass wasn't in her best interest currently. I chuckle silently to myself, knowing she was likely talking some big shit right now. Probably gave those men the fight of their life. She'd be okay, I just need to find her. _Find her._ I silently willed whoever was up above watching us to work in our favor. I've never been religious, but I prayed. I prayed harder than anyone ever has. I didn't even notice Tool sit down next to me.

"She's strong, and incredibly smart. She'll be ok," he assured me, but it also sounded like he was assuring myself. I smirked a little bit. It was amazing how much the team had come to actually loving her.

"You care about her a lot too," I state openly, really to no one.

"That little girl has had the biggest improvement in you that I've ever seen. Even more than Sabrina. You seem… happy."

"I was," I grumble, obviously not happy anymore. I regretted so much of what I've said and haven't said to her. All the lies, deceit, was nothing compared to the regret of not telling her how much I cared.

"We'll get her back-"

"I should have told her," I whispered hoarsely. Tool stops, frowning.

"Told her what?"

"That I loved her."


	16. Chapter 16

_Brenna's POV_

We'd been driving for what felt like forever, my temple was throbbing and I was pissed. But I couldn't see, they'd put a bag over my head.

"If I have another concussion, someone is getting their limbs ripped off," I muttered, pouting. Someone chuckles, and it surprises me that someone with a sense of humor is in the car.

"Typical of a Ross. How have you been, Brenna? Long time no see," the voice that was achingly familiar asks. I whip my head in the direction of the voice.

"Who are you? How do you know me? How do you know Barney?" I demand. He chuckles again.

"Always the same questions with you. Think really really hard. You've met me before," he tells me. I close my eyes, trying to concentrate. I recall someone… someone telling me to kill someone. But I thought it was a nightmare.

"You. You're the one that put killing people in my head. You've made me out to be a sociopath to my dad, you know that right?"

"I'm surprised that's all you remember. You must have a clear conscience if the only thing you remember is the defiance you felt at the time. Brava, Brenna," he applauds me. My pulse was getting quicker by the second.

"Where are we going? Why me?" I arrogate. He tsks me.

"Well, for starters, we're getting far away. Then I'm going to fill you in on everything you're missing. Everything you've been lied to."

"Like what?"

"Enough questions for now, we're almost there."

It was another thirty minutes before I feel us stop and I'm yanked from the car. I'm led inside a building, and down several flights of stairs. When I'm shoved in a chair and handcuffed to it, only then is the bag ripped off my face. My eyes adjust to the light, and when I open them, I'm staring at a webcam. With an older bald man standing in front of a large computer screen. He spins around and smiles, and I can smell crazy on him. It makes my skin crawl and my stomach do somersaults. It's always the crazy one you want to be scared of.

"So, I've decided that the truth should come from the one who's been doing the lying. Call him!" he barks at a young man behind a computer screen. He dials a number, and soon the webcam kicks on. Thorns face is the first I see on the screen, then Barney's. And for the first time since I was taking, I feel myself begin to calm down. Thorn looks panicked but stoic to everyone who doesn't know him well. I wanted nothing more than to go to him now and apologize for my isolate behavior over the last month.

"Brenna!" he looks like he's aged about a hundred years in the last hour.

"Barney, what is going on?" I yell, only because I'm unsure if he can hear me. I felt better just hearing his voice, maybe he'd be able to find me.

"Yes, Barney, what is going on?" the man asks in a sing-song voice. He produces a small blade from his pocket, and walks behind me. I gulp, looking at Barney's face in fear. He'll come get me. He has before. He's a mercenary, of some kind. I've worked it out. This is what he does. It'll be alright. But even he looks scared.

"Church, you sadistic bastard, let her go! It's me you want!" he roars at the camera, shocking me. _Him?_ What's this all about?

"Wrong answer," Church hisses, and I feel the small blade rip into my shoulder. I scream, writhing away from the blade. I feel the warm, sticky trickle of blood begin to stream down my arm. My eyes well with tears from the pain, but I refuse to let them fall. Barney's eyes go wide, and helpless.

"Stop!" he cries frantically, and I realize the desperation on his face is what Church is feeding off of.

"Here's the game we're going to play. For every lie you tell, she'll pay the price. So tell the truth, and she'll be fine," Church paces behind me like a crazy man.

"Brenna… what I said at the shooting range… was uncalled for. I'm sorry," he says hoarsely, clearly choked. I nod.

"I know," I whimper, trying to not let the pain bother me.

"No, you don't-"

"But I do. I worked it out a long time ago. I just wanted you to own up to it. You're a mercenary, aren't you? That's why you left mom? To protect her?" I ask. Barney smiles sadly, and nods.

"I had a feeling you knew," he sighs, and Church looks disappointed. But he recovers quickly and gets a spark of insanity within his eyes.

"So! This was unexpected. I had no idea that you knew! It's a shame that protecting Sabrina didn't go so well in your favor," Church says nonchalantly. I suck in a sharp take of air, like the wind has been knocked out of me.

"Barney?" I ask, in a hushed whisper.

"Brenna… I'm so sorry. I should've told you. I just wanted you to move on, and be happy. And at first it I was working. But then-"

"Get to the point, Barney," Church snaps, waving the blade in the air by my other arm.

"I've made enemies doing what I do. Your mom paid the price, at the hand of the man in front of you," he spits at Church, and before I can scream at Church, and threaten to beat him within an inch of his life, I feel the knife drive into my other arm. I scream once again.

"Dammit Church! That was the truth, stop it!" Barney barks.

"Except it wasn't. You see, Barney abandoned you as a child. He didn't want to be a dad, let alone be a husband to anyone. Sabrina was of… well… little significance to him. Barney had his little rascals as his family. That's all he needed. So, he walked away from your mom. And two years ago, she came to him saying someone had been threatening you and her. She didn't tell you because she didn't want to scare you. And he turned her away at the door, and he knew who was after her. He did nothing. He could have protected her. He could've saved her. He didn't."

"Church that's bullshit!"

"You killed her! When the time came, I gave you a choice! Save her, and face me yourself, or let her die. Tell the truth!" Church shouts at the webcam.

"It's not the truth! Brenna, don't listen-"

Another blade stabs into my shoulder. Tears were streaming down my face at this point. The knife pulls out and the bloody blade is pressed to my thigh.

"Barney," he hisses through his teeth. Barney looks at the knife in his hand and my face, and a sudden choice is made in his eyes. A choice, as it looks, he doesn't want to make.

Barney, looking entirely broken and ashamed, says, "Brenna, I'm sorry-"

"Why?" I cry, my heart feeling like it's just been crushed entirely.

"He regretted it, that's why he took you in. He thought it saved his soul, in some way," Church fills me in.

"You fucking bastard! You knew! You knew the whole time! She'd be alive right now! You lying, manipulative-"

"Easy, kid. You'll give yourself an aneurism," Church admonishes playfully. I glare daggers at him. He was still the direct reason she was dead. I rear my head back, and spit on his shoe.

"You're lucky I'm in cuffs, or you'd be dead right now," I snarl menacingly. Church whistles.

"Damn, I believe you. But I wonder, would you do the same to your own father?" He points isn't the direction of the webcam. Barney looks at me with a hopeless, desperate look in his eyes. He wills me to look at him with the stupid, fake fatherly look on his face. I look away, trying to conceal the hurt and pain on my face.

"He's not my father," I hiss, closing my eyes. I hear him suck in a sharp breath, like I've punched him in the heart. Apt, considering he's ripped out mine.

"Brenna-"

The webcam goes black. A sob escapes my throat.

"Did his team know about this?" I ask hoarsely. Church's silence says it all. Tool, Thorn, Christmas, Luna, everyone I cared deeply about. They all knew. They all lied to me. I feel blood spill down my arm, and tears trickle down my face. I'm utterly broken. Even Thorn, which hurt almost as much as Barney. He was just interested in me to get in my pants. I'm glad he never did. At least I still had that dignity.

"Well, that was dramatic," Church breathes, wiping his blade off on my jeans.

"Just get it over with," I mutter, keeping my eyes closed. I had nothing to fight for now. I was going to die anyway, I just wanted it to be over with.

"Hm, I think I've changed my mind on what I want to do with you. Unfortunately, we can't stay here. Get her, and let's get to the airport before the agency slime finds us," Church shouts orders to everyone.

"Why keep me alive? Isn't the whole point of this to kill me?" I ask. Church frowns.

"The point of this is to…. completely _burn_ Barney Ross to the ground. But now I realize, I may need your help in doing that. So you may be of greater use to me alive. But, we'll need some time-"

"And who says I'll cooperate?" I demand, not even caring what he could do to me for mouthing off. He grins though, shaking his head.

"Because if you had it your way, deep down, once you're through with me, you know it's him you'll want to go after. It's him that started all of this, that caused all this heartache. You want him to burn as much as I do, you just don't know it yet," he says simply. I glare at him.

"I'm no murderer. It's not what my mom would have wanted," I snarl. He whistles again.

"You've definitely got the intimidation game down. And maybe you're right- and I hate to be the one to say this- but your mother is long dead. When are you going to start living your life and making choices that reflect what you want, and now what she would have wanted? To me, it sounds like you're trying too hard to live in a shadow."

His words sting, but… as much as I hate him and hate feeling like this, he was right. I was humiliated, betrayed, lied to, and manipulated. By more than just Barney. Starting with Wiley. Then Thorn. Tool. Everyone else. I had no one to blame but myself. I let this happen. I agreed to ignore the better instinct that Barney was lying to me about something.

Something, I don't know what, breaks deep inside me. I feel myself get cold, and my heart swallowed into a dark abyss of crushing depths. It sends a shiver across my skin. All the emotion, all the betrayal and heartache felt was suddenly gone. Replaced was an undying anger and hatred. I'd been a doormat for those around me for far too long. I tried to live my life the way I thought my mom would have wanted me to. But she wasn't around anymore, and I had to take care of myself. And, nor did she realize how cruel the world really was. There wasn't a place in this dark, disgusting world for the compassion and basic human parts that she possessed, the human parts I was supposed to have. If that were the case, she'd still be alive. The world was filled with people who were soulless. And now more than ever, I was among those people.

And I wanted revenge.

 _Barney's POV_

When the TV screen went black, and lost transmission appeared on the screen, I collapsed onto my knees.

"Did we get him?" I ask, hoping for a miracle.

"It kept saying he was in Iceland… I'm so sorry, Barney," Thorn says, clearly freaked out from what we just witnessed. Everyone was silent, clearly also bothered by what just happened.

"He's fucking crazy," Christmas whispered.

Now Brenna thinks I murdered her mother. I staggered to a chair, flopping myself on it. This could have easily been avoided if I had just told her the truth. Granted, my hands weren't totally clean in this. I could've kept better attention on Sabrina. But I didn't kill her. I put my head in my hands. _God, what have I done?_

"Barney?" Someone calls my name, but I don't look at them. I just sit in silence, thinking about how the last few months could've been. She would have taken longer to trust me, but eventually, we'd have gotten to where we are now. Or where we were. The last thing we did was argue, and admit that I took part in her mother's death. But what choice did I have? He was going to continue stabbing her, torturing her until I lied and made myself out to be the bad guy. And now I understand Church's game. He wanted to burn my life to the ground, no matter how long it took. Starting with bringing my daughter back into my life slowly, starting when Sabrina died. Allowing us to get close, and then ripping her from my life. And now? He's turned her against me. God only knows what he plans to do with her now. But my guess is, it's got something to do with making her kill me.

It wasn't going to happen.

I'd put my own rifle to my head before I saw her pull a trigger. She can't be a cold blooded killer, but the way she feels right now, Church could very easily manipulate her. She's vulnerable because she's broken, but she's also strong and stubborn and full of the same pride I have. She'll be hard to manipulate. Shit. What if he drugs her? Or tortures her? I groan, because this is all on me. Someone shakes my shoulder, but I continue to ignore it. Poor girl, she must be in so much pain right now. Mentally, emotionally, physically. The wounds to her arms weren't going to cause much long term damage. She'll have scarring. But it'll be nothing compared to the emotional damage she'll have to reverse.

Something within in me snaps on, like a switch. I rise to my feet. This wasn't going to happen. I wasn't going to let this happen to Brenna. She didn't deserve it. I was going to fight to my dying breath to get her back. If she hated me, fine. She'd never have to talk to me, look at me, be in the same room with me again if she didn't want to. But she had to know the truth- the real truth- and she had to live a long life after me.

"Ok. Here's the deal. Thorn, I want you to chug as many energy drinks as possible because I want you glued to that screen. Surveillance is your top priority. If you get a blip on the radar, even if you're not even sure it's him, I want to know."

"We'll have our team start surveillance double time, too," Drummer says, leaving the room.

"Get a hold of Trench, Yang, and Galgo. We'll need everyone for this."

"Galgo is in Spain still, but I doubt it'll take more than two seconds to bring him back if you really want that. Trench and Yang… may take some persuading," Caesar comments. I nod.

"I'll take the funds out of my own account. I can manage it. Just do it," I say, and leave the room. I needed to be alone, to come to terms with the choices I've made on behalf of Brenna that led us here. I couldn't get a clear head entirely until I let my demons out. But, Tool followed me.

"Barney-"

"I really need to be alone, Tool. I know you're just trying to help, but-"

"It's not that… I want in on this one."

I pause, unsure if this is a wise move. He's aged, gotten out of shape, and made a good transition to a normal life.

"Tool, I'm not sure if that's a good-"

"Barney. Please. I want her back as much as you do," he implores. I frown.

"I'll think about it. I just don't want anything happening to you, either," I tell him, and he smiles.

"You know, ever since you brought the younglings to the team, you've been soft," he teases. I scoff, because I know it's true. Being around the younger members of the team has sensitized me a little bit. Which I'm glad for, because in hindsight, it was almost like God himself knew Brenna was coming and wanted to make me less of an asshole.

"Well, you can blame Brenna for a lot of it too," I mutter.

"She'll be ok, Barney. Church wants her alive to play his sick games with. And she's incredibly strong. She can shut down sometimes when she's going through a rough patch, but that's just in her blood. She's a Ross. She's incredibly complicated, stubborn, sometimes stupid, and full of arrogance. But for all of that, she's a million other better things. She'll be just fine," Tool grabs my shoulder roughly. I nod, but not smiling like he is.

"My only worry is that he'll torture her. He wants to break her to break me. I just don't know how yet. Tool, he's going to hurt her. Really hurt her. And she's not used to the fucked up things we see. What if this ruins her?" I ask.

"He'll probably hurt her, Barney. I won't lie to you. And he'll try his damn hardest to ruin her. But she's not the kind of person to let some asshole ruin her completely. It may take time, but she'll bounce back," he says.

I hoped to God or whoever was above that he was right.


	17. Chapter 17

_Brenna's POV_

I was still in cuffs, being dragged through a cold and wet hallway only God knows where. Last thing I remember, I was being forced on a plane. I must've been drugged. My arms were sore, they felt like they were about to fall off. I looked at them left to right and saw stitches, and slowly, my memory began to come back.

"She's awake," a man says.

"Brenna! Glad you could join us! I want you to be awake to see your room," Church gestures to a dark, cramped cell. The man holding me shoved me in, and I fall roughly on the floor, unable to catch my fall with my hands behind my back. It was cold, really cold, and the floor was frigid.

"Not even gonna uncuff me? It's not like I have a damn clue where I am and how to escape," I mutter groggily. He grins.

"Hm, it appears you're right," he sends one of the men into the cell, and he uncuffs my restraints. I rub my wrists, but then bring my knee to the guardsman's groin. As he doubles over, I deliver my strongest punch to his nose. He crumples to the ground. When I turn around, everyone has guns on me. "Now, what did you just say about not trying to escape?" Church asks, not smiling anymore. Instead, I am.

"Oh that wasn't an attempt to escape. That was me showing you just a fraction of what I'm going to do to you when I get the chance," I threaten lowly. I kicked the man out of the cell, and he rolls to the bottom of Church's feet. Church goes back to grinning.

"Good, I like this side of you better," he narrows his eyes and stalks out of the room. His entourage follows.

"He'll come back and hit you twice as hard for that," a woman's voice rasps. I turn to the voice, and across the hall from my cell, a woman about my age was curled up on the floor. Blood was caked on the side of her ash-toned face. Her accent sounded vaguely familiar.

"I'll take my chances. Who are you?" I ask, asking up to the bars to get a closer look at her. She was wearing practically rags, and looked malnourished as well. I ripped off my jacket, exposing my arms to the frigid cold, and tossed it into her cell without hesitation. She needed it more than me. She catches it with a bony hand, and looks at me suspiciously.

"Who are you?" she counters.

"Brenna. Brenna Arvelo."

"You're very kind, Brenna. Mirembe Alakija," she rasps as she slides the jacket sleeves over her arms.

"Nice to meet you, Mirembe. Where are you from?" I ask. She laughs bitterly.

"Not so nice." I snort in agreement with her. But then she continues, "Luanda, Angola."

"Is that where we are now?" I ask.

"Yes. Outside city limits."

"Then why the hell is it so damn cold?"

"Church keeps the prisons frigid to keep it from smelling like a rotted corpse. They don't check for bodies often."

"Jesus… I must've been out a while," I mutter. Barney was probably worried sick…

Suddenly, I remember everything. And even tho it was already freezing inside the cell, it somehow manages to drop several degrees. I slide to the ground, putting my head in my hands. I wanted to cry. So much. My heart physically hurt, I never knew there was a heartache that could hurt you this way. But I refused to cry. I had to be strong, to get through this. There was no doubt that Barney likely had decided to disregard me, now that I knew everything. I was on my own again. I'd lived for two years on my own. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling.

"You should stand up. Get angry about something. Otherwise you'll let yourself go into shock," a man's voice said. He was undoubtedly American. I peered into the darkness at the cell next to me, it was just so damn dark. There were windows, two, but they were too far up to see out of. The light they gave was limited as it was dark out.

"Hello?" I ask.

"Hello yourself. I'm David," he sticks his hand through the bars to shake my hand. But I still can't see him. I glance at Mirembe, who nods at me, telling me it was okay.

"Nice to meet you David..?"

"Alhauser."

"Brenna," I say, shaking his hand. He steps closer to the bars, and I can see his face now. He was a bit healthier looking than Mirembe. But he had scars covering his arms, chest, and face. One eye was glazed over, obviously blind.

"Don't let him fool you, he looks scary. But he's kind," Mirembe jokes. David grins. I must've looked freaked out, and I give him an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry. It's just… was that done to you here?" I whisper, shocked. David gives me a sad smile that tells me all I need to know. "Christ, those wounds looked serious. How long have you been here?"

"Since I was eighteen," he leans against the bars, sitting down next to me. I hesitate to ask, but I have to.

"How old are you now?"

"Twenty-one, and no, I still haven't had my first beer," he teases. I smile, because he seems so gentle and kind. Why is he here?

"I don't understand, how long has Church been… Well…"

"You don't know what he does, do you?" Mirembe asks. I frown.

"There wasn't many introductions between us from the time I was taken to here," I mumble. David gives me a sympathetic smile.

"He's an international drug trade master, and recently, arms dealer. Typical. Ex-CIA, went rogue. Like I said, all very typical. Boys on the hill found out, locked him up. But he got out, and resumed his trade. But when he got out, he was different. They must've been doing things in that prison. Experiments, torture, I don't know. Because he came back and had lost his marbles."

"So, you were here before and after he was imprisoned? Why?"

"Well, that's a longer story."

"I've got time," I give him a deadpan look, and he actually laughs.

"I was taken when I was eighteen. My father is, or was, a CIA agent. He helped bring down Church. So when he got out, Church came after the people that burned him. He went after my family. Tortured my mother. He forced my father put a bullet in his eye, otherwise he'd shoot me. Then he took me, and my little sister. We've been here since," he's shaking in rage by the time he's done. I didn't know what to say, so I stick a hand through the bars and rest it on his fist. He opens his eyes and looks at me, his furious demeanor melting away.

"I'm so sorry. What happened to your little sister?" I ask, almost afraid of what Church did to a little girl.

"She's still here, supposedly. Last time I saw her was six months ago, barely. They take us out once a week to let us breathe some fresh air. I saw her in another compound across a field. I made a run for it. And… well, let's just say Church made the sadistic decision to prevent me from seeing her again. Literally. He allowed me to keep the one good eye, so I could watch him do it."

"Fuck," I hiss, closing my eyes.

"...I'm sorry. I don't mean to frighten you. Why are you here?" he asks to distract me.

"Honestly? Almost the same story. My father was, apparently, a mercenary. I don't know the full story, but obviously he tried to take him down in some way. So Church came after my mother, it was just us. My dad wasn't around. This happened two years ago. I don't know… maybe he was just trying to fuck with me or my father. But he killed her, and waited for me to find Barney, my dad. And then he let us get close, only to find out that Barney was essentially the reason my mom died. He may not have drove the car into her, but he's the reason she's dead. He knew about Church and what he was planning and did nothing. He only took me in out of pity. And then Church got what he wanted, though I doubt Barney cares. He took me, with the intention of making me kill Barney myself," I sigh. Mirembe has sat up now, leaning against the bars closest to the hall across from me.

"Damn. Do you think you will?" David asks, and Mirembe makes a noise of disapproval at him.

"I doubt this is really what she wants to discuss right now," she hisses. I shrug.

"It's better than letting my mind wander of what's going to happen to me."

"Well do you?"

I pause. Church was the murderer in this case, but Barney may as well have been his accomplice. The duo was the reason my life went to shit. Everything that has sucked, is because of them.

"Absolutely. But in a priority list? Church's head comes first," I seethe. Davis laughs.

"Get in line, sweetheart," he cackles, and despite myself, I laugh.

"How old is your sister?"

"She was taken when she was just twelve."

I gawk at him, feeling my jaw drop. That meant she was fifteen now. The poor thing, she was just a child. I could understand the deeper hatred David held for Church. Even more than I. But I can tell he wants no sympathy, so I keep my thoughts to myself and change the subject.

"So why are you here?" I ask Mirembe.

"Church's men are disgusting, hand-picked criminals from the world's worst prisons. They get their kicks from torturing the nearby villages outside of Luanda. Taking women, forcing the men to work here. Children are forced to be raised in sewer systems, in an effort to hide them."

"So, my mother and father were taken. My father died from… ehm… I think it is called heat stroke in your language. My mother was held here, as a pet for the men. You can imagine what they did to her. I was 16, and I knew I would be next to be taken as a slave, so I decided with a bunch of older children from the village to take the compound by storm. Only to find out my mother was long dead. Many children my age died, not many survived here either. The women were taken to huts, where the criminals lived. To be slaves. The men were taken to the labs and shipping yards for working. And anyone else left was put here. Not many people last longer than one year here, so it is just me and another man left. He's in a lab right now-"

"Mira! Shut up!" David hisses. I whip my head to him.

"What?"

"Nothing," he answers quickly, trying to hide something. I close my eyes, kneading my forehead in frustration.

"David, the only reason I'm here right now is because I've been lied to and manipulated. Please don't put yourself in the same category as the people who are responsible for it," I warn, and he gulps.

"You can be quite scary, you know. I saw how you handled the man who uncuffed you. It was impressive," he comments. I nod a thank you, but wait for him to answer my question. He sighs.

"There are three prison complexes. One for holding, essentially, prisoners of war. To be workers, slaves, etc. One for younger people and children, where my sister is. Though I doubt she'll be there much longer. And then this one…"

"What's in this one," I ask quietly. David puts his hand on mine.

"This is all so much, you've been taken today and you've heard our stories and how long we've been here. I can tell you some other time-"

"David."

"Alright! It's a test subject facility. That's why our age group is primarily in here, we're at our healthiest and strongest. Church is a drug lord. But he has to test them on people before he ships them out, so he doesn't accidentally kill his business. He usually keeps one person per drug, but lately… he's been messing with something new. Many of the test subjects have gone into the lab and not come back. We usually don't know when or with what we're be injected. It's… awful. The people who have been your cell mates for years, the people I've had around me since I was eighteen have been dying off slowly. Mira, Zane, and I are the only ones left out of eleven. This is the smallest complex. But Zane was taken almost six hours ago… usually a session only last half of that. I imagine they'll likely transfer new people over soon, but they'll kill us off first-"

"Ok, too many details David," Mirembe warns. I'm sure I look exactly as freaked out as I feel. I jump up, pacing back and forth. These poor people. There must be some way to help them. I have to get out of here. But I need them to help me.

"What's the usual operation status here? Is there a schedule on how it runs?" I ask David. He frowns.

"There's no clock to be able to tell, and they keep the windows up so high so we can't tell where the sun is. It's almost impossible to follow any kind of schedule."

"What about any kind of meal times? They obviously haven't been starving you," I ask. Mirembe frowns.

"Sure, unless you've stabbed a guardsman's throat with a sharpened rock," she mutters.

"Mira here thought she'd get all Rambo and try to escape, and when she failed to understand that they have eyes on us the whole time, they decided in retaliation to cut her rations in half. That's why she looks like shit," he gives her a "you're a dumbass" look. They were obviously good friends.

"You don't look too pretty either," she jibes back. I smile at their teasing. It reminded me of Reagan. God, I missed her.

"There must be a way out of here," I say, mainly to myself. David, who only looks at me with pity, shakes his head.

"You'll lose that hope within a few weeks. But in the meantime, I can teach you a few tricks I've taught Mira to make the time and discomfort of this place fade," he grins. Mira rolls her eyes, but smiles warmly at her friend.

"The first year I was here, I didn't speak a lick of English. David managed to teach me. Afterwards, he would teach me different American dances to warm up my body when I was cold or songs to make me feel better. If there was anyone in the world that could be a professional prisoner, it's David," she laughs weakly.

"How do you guys manage to stay so light-hearted? The horrors you've seen, the drugs in your system, all of it seems so traumatic," I ask in amazement. They smile warmly at each other.

"Having the right company makes a world's difference. But, it's been a good day. You'll learn the bad and good days soon. In the meantime, I want to teach you this one dance," David jumps up excitedly, and I decided to humor him.

It's been almost a week, and it's been pretty calm and silent. Mirembe had given up on Zane, and had been silent since she began to mourn. David and I had left her alone, and no one had come to administer any kind of drug on either of them nor myself. Apparently, since the drug they were working on killed Zane, it could be weeks before they believe they've corrected the problem. But I was reliably informed that this was normal, sometimes it would be weeks before they were dragged to a lab. It was weird that I hadn't seen Church since I was thrown in here. It felt like I was his pet project, but then again, he had a lot of patience for someone so crazy.

We got one bucket of cold water every two days, to wash ourselves with. And our clothes. It was impossible to not almost get frostbite in doing so. I was a little uncomfortable at first with being half naked around two strangers. But they both stripped like it was nothing. So eventually, I became normalized to the daily life. David and Mira were becoming very quickly my friends, and we all leaned on each when we needed to. David was right, some days were darker than others.

But, I hadn't gave up hope like he thought I would. I was still going to get out of here, and drag them with me. Somehow. I'd been sharing my rations with Mira, making her strength build. Unfortunately, it hadn't done any good for mine. But she needed it more than I did. Most nights we froze together. David and I were lucky. We could huddle against the bars together and try and keep each other warm. Mira was on her own, but she still had my jacket from a week ago. Which made huge difference to her. We'd tell each other stories, sing different songs, and dance to keep warm and entertained. But at night, when they would go to sleep, I was awake.

I thought about everything. Thorn, Barney, Tool, Reagan. I thought if they were even worried about me, or if they'd moved on. I knew Reagan would be worried sick. But I wasn't sure if anyone else gave a shit.

"Brenna?" I hear David whisper from his blanket on the floor. We didn't have beds, just a cold, sometimes wet blanket.

"What?" I whisper back, because I hear Mira snoring softly.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks. I feel the heartache creep it's way in, but through the last seven nights, I've learned to shut it out quickly. Sadness was not an affordable emotion around here.

"Whether the people that put me here even think twice about me daily," I say.

"I'm sure they do. You said Barney took you in out of pity, and you two became close. Same with his team. And your friend Reagan. Despite their actions, they cared about you," he says, but I ignore him. It was too hard to hear. I could believe that maybe Tool or Thorn would sometimes toss a thought my way, and I definitely knew Reagan would. But I doubt Barney did, and I didn't give a rats ass about it.

I see, just barely, him messing with something shiny in the darkness. It was around his neck.

"What's that?" I ask.

"This? My mother's engagement ring. I wear it around my neck. It's vintage, it's an opal instead of a diamond," he explains. I smile.

"Why do you wear it?" I ask.

"Because my family was everything to me. And my mom was the center of our family, like any mom is. And I'm going to give the ring to Mia when we get out of here. So she always has a way to remember our family, before all of this," he explains solemnly.

"I'm sorry all of that happened to you, David," I whisper. He doesn't get a chance to respond, because Mirembe interrupts me.

"Brenna?" I hear Mira ask into darkness, and I could feel the guilt spread. We'd woke her up.

"Sorry, we didn't mean to wake you," I tell her quietly.

"That's ok. I wasn't sleeping well anyway."

"What's up?" I ask.

"Can… can you sing that lullaby you've been singing every night? The one you said your mother taught you?" she asks shyly. I smiled sadly. She was so upset about Zane. They were both from Luanda, and both part of the same raid they attempted together.

"Of course," I tell her, beginning to sing softly. I could hear her sniffling from her cell, and I knew she was crying. Today was a bad day, no doubt.

I had no access to a mirror, but I could see the physical change in my hands. They looked smaller, and my skin was suffering from patches of frostbite. I hated it, because I had to remain strong enough to fight my way out of here. I decided starting tomorrow I would start building back up my strength. In the meantime, I closed my eyes and let the melody come to an end. Mirembe's sniffling had stopped, and I could hear David snoring. The lullaby had worked. I brought my knees to my chest and hugged them closely to myself.

It was only when they both fell asleep that I would get my darkest, because it was only then that I was completely alone.


	18. Chapter 18

The next morning, I was rudely awakened by a guard poking at me with his gun.

"You. Up."

"Shit. Brenna, they're taking you to a lab," Mira hisses. My heart rate spikes as I get up, and they cuff me. I make sure to grab the sharp rock off the ground that I'd been sharpening for a plan I had.

"Whatever you do, focus on your breathing. The steady rhythm of your breathing will keep you calm," David says, looking at me in fear. Honestly, I was terrified. I'd done a good job keeping calm thus far, but that was because I hadn't been taken yet. I looked at him and Mira, giving them a reassuring smile. But they saw through it. This used to be routine for them, but now, people weren't coming back. And they were already looking at me like I was a dead man walking. I walked to the exit, but a large grin spread across my face.

"I'll be back in like, five minutes guys, don't get too bored without me," I yell to them, and I hear them laugh. The guard pushes me, yelling at me in his language. Probably telling me to shut up. He guides me through a series of hallways, and I make sure to memorize every detail for my head later. It was like a maze, but I still had the sharp rock in my palm. It wasn't for a weapon. It was for a writing tool. I cut my palm, with an L or an R for each direction I turned. I couldn't see my handiwork, so I had to do my best judgement. And it had to be quick. Each slice brought a fresh sting of pain to my hand, and I began to question my sanity. The thought makes me smirk to myself. This place was making me crazy, but wiser. But it was a good crazy.

I was lead into a room that looked like a medieval torture chamber, with tables that you can strap someone down on and surgical equipment. There was also a cabinet with rifles, setting just inside. Jackpot. I carve a W into my palm for weapons, and drop the rock on my shoe so it doesn't make a noise.

I'm pushed onto a table, but I don't bother fighting it. I'm strapped in, and my heart is still clammering inside my chest. I hear the lab doors burst open.

"Brenna! Well, you're looking a little tired there, kid. Has she been getting full rations?" Church demands from the guardsmen, and the guardsmen nods. Church looks at him, unsure of whether to believe him. Little did he know, I was sharing with Mirembe.

"Stress causes me to lose weight. It used to be a gift, but you've turned it into a curse," I joke weakly, hoping he buys it.

"You seem calm, all things considered. I must say Brenna, you've been full of surprises since we met. What do you remember from the first time we met?" he asks.

"Not much, the only thing that's clear now is you trying to get me to kill Wiley. But only because you filled that in for me," I tell him. I can't believe I was conversing with the man that killed my mother. It makes my blood boil.

"Hm, and do you remember Barney coming in and drugging you?" he asks. I grind my teeth. Why wasn't I surprised that he was the one to do it?

"No, but it doesn't shock me," I say through my teeth. I didn't want to talk about Barney.

"He used a combination of scopolamine, otherwise known as Devil's breath, and sedatives, so he could interrogate you. See what I had told you. I've been trying to recreate the drug, but as you may have been informed, it's not going well. It sounds extremely useful in my field of work-"

"You're lying. Barney lied to me, he may have been an accomplice of murder, but he wouldn't have drugged me. There's no way his team would have went with that," I refused to believe a word he said, there couldn't be any truth in this. It was so fucked up. He wouldn't… interrogate me… could he? I was his own daughter at the end of the day, regardless of what he did. Shit… he took me in on a pity note. I doubt he held any respect for me and the personal boundaries that normal people don't cross.

"I wish that were true. I told you long ago, I was on your side. The only problem is that you just don't know the side you're on yet. You need to be reminded. Do it," he nods to someone behind me, who injects something into my neck. I hiss as it pierces my skin. I tried to remember David's advice on my breathing, but a familiar pain seers its way across my skin. It burns, and I feel it rip into my organs. I scream out, the pain unbearable.

"Focus, Brenna! The last time you felt this pain! Where was it?!" Church roared in my face. I shake my head, tears spilling down the side of my face.

"It's- not t-true!" I scream at him, refusing to let him in my head. But I was losing it, the grip on my consciousness was slowly weakening.

When I open my eyes again, I'm looking at myself. On my knees, in Tool's garage. Rocking back and forth, clutching my head. Doc was in front of me. The scene was achingly familiar, a sense of deja vu creeping it's way into my head. I shook my head, closing my eyes. I wouldn't watch. It wasn't true.

When I open them again, I'm back in the lab. The pain is back, and it's still excruciating. I didn't feel the pain when I was in the vision. I wanted to go back. Anything to avoid the burning. I close my eyes again, writhing from side to side. I don't know how long I lay across the table, strapped in, screaming. Willing the vision to come back so I could escape the pain, I'm transported back into Tool's garage.

" _Barney, she won't remember a thing. Get what you can out of her now," Doc tells Barney, who kneels in front of me. He says something to Doc, but it's muffled. I move closer to them, and I hear Barney demanding things from me._

" _... what's the faceless man planning, Brenna?" he demands, and in an instant, I'm back at the lab._

A fresh pain, a new heartache emerges from the physical pain I was enduring. I shook my head over and over again.

"No, no no no. It's true. It can't be true," I wail, and Church just grins.

"He never cared, Brenna. He just wanted to make sure I wasn't coming after him. To save his own skin. You were nothing. You've been here for what, a week? Where is he? He's a mercenary, he has the CIA at his fingertips, why can't he find you?" he whispers in my ear. I shake my head, the pain in my organs becoming more bearable as anger and hatred wells inside of me.

"Don't," I cried, begging him to stop. He was tearing me down to the foundation, breaking me when I thought I was already broke. But somewhere inside, I still had hope that Barney wasn't as bad as Church was trying to make him seem. But this memory, this all too real memory, was my breaking point.

"He can't find you, because he's not looking," he murmurs in my ear, and I go still. The tears stop flowing, my soul was a ravaged and war-like state. The pain from the injection was still there, but I welcomed it now. My mind was focused on the hatred, the pure, unfiltered abhorrence I felt for Barney Ross. The pain only reminded me that he had once used this on me. He hurt me intentionally for his own gain, multiple times.

"How long has it been in her system now?"

"Two hours."

"Excellent. I think we've got it now. Do you think there's a way to inject it and make her still functional? I doubt she'll hold the state of mind on her own, she seems to able to fight off influence pretty well."

"It's hard to say. With enough exposure, she could become immune to the pain, I suppose. But it would have to be an extremely low dose. And it would take time, at least three weeks-"

"We've got the time. They've been on several wild goose chases. They won't find us until I want them to. Let's do it, starting tomorrow," he says. I'm unstrapped from the table and pushed upwards. My limbs feel like scorched, hollow noodles that burned with every movement. My internal organs felt equally burnt and turned to mush.

"Brenna, pleasure as always," Church says, shaking a limp hand.

"I want-" I try, but only begin mumbling. Church halts as he begins to leave the room, and spins slowly.

"You want what?" he asks quietly.

"I want… him dead," I growled, allowing the hate I felt fuel my body. But I felt my consciousness slipping. Church grins widely.

"This may happen sooner than I thought. Increase her rations, if what she says is true about stress, she'll need the extra strength. I want her training to begin as well-"

"She may still try to go after you-"

"I have no doubt. But she'll want to go after Barney more," he counters.

"Mr. Church, you'll have to include some positive reinforcement somewhere within all of this. She needs to be able to associate you with something good. Otherwise she'll regard you with the same hatred she does with Ross."

"You're the psychologist here, what do you suggest?" he asks.

"Take her back to her cell, we'll discuss it more after she's back. I don't want to risk her remembering this. When she finally passes out, she should only remember what Ross did to her. How did you know he did that anyway?"

"I knew she'd wake up freaking out. It's Devil's Breath, the world's best interrogation drug. Only I made it better. And I knew Barney would be freaking out about what she knew, and he'd use the drug to his advantage. He wouldn't like it, but he still would do it. It's all about the pawns you move on the field, Doctor," Church explains, hauling me over his shoulder. We get back to the cell, and he flops me onto the blanket for a bed.

"Get some extra blankets for her," he demands from the Doctor, who scurries away.

"What did you give her? I could hear her screaming from all the way in here!" David roars, and Church frowns at him.

"Unless you want your sister to be the next test patient, I suggest you mind your own business. Besides, Brenna will be the new test subject. You should be happy. You and Mirembe get some time off," he stalks out of the room, only to come back with more blankets. He drapes them over me, but I still can't move. I only stare off into space.

"I will see you when you're all healed up," he leaves, and my eyes finally drift shut.

"Brenna? Brenna!" I hear Mira and David calling my name, but it's too late and soon I'm pulled into the darkness that crawls across my head.

When I open my eyes, my head is fuzzy and I feel groggy. It's daytime out still, but I don't know how long I've been out. I only remember the recent revelations with Barney, and a shiver goes across my skin. I launch up from my spot, anger and determination fueling my body. David and Mira launch up too, smiling at me.

"Brenna, are you okay?" she asks.

"Peachy," I mumble, pacing back and forth.

"What happened?" David asks.

"Church injected me with the same drug that apparently Barney did a few months ago, he used it to interrogate me. To find out where Church was."

"Fuck, are you serious?" David asks. I only nod, pissed off.

"It caused some memories to trigger. I remember everything. And I'm going to kill him," I swear under my breath. I was dehydrated, starving, and exhausted. None of this was doing anything for my mood.

"Well when you figure out how to escape and do that, you let me know," Mira sighs. I grin.

"Well, step one is already underway," I showed them my palm which had the carved directions to the lab. They look at my hand to my face for several seconds.

"You're insane."

"You said it was impossible to remember the way to the lab after you'd been drugged. I don't remember it either. At all."

"Is there a way out in there?" Mira asks, hope on her face. David puts his head in his hands, groaning. I look at my hand, and see a W carved in the center. I shake my head.

"No. Better. There's rifles, just sitting inside. We'd need those before we even tried to find an exit. This place is crawling with guards, and from what I've seen over the last week, there's no way to possibly track them. Unless I know the time. That's the next step."

"What? Buy a rolex?" David suggests sarcastically.

"You've been here for what? Three years? Have you not noticed that the guards wear the same watch? They must be synced up. There is a pattern, we just can't see it because we don't have any reference of time. I can get one off of them. One way or another. It just may take some extra time."

"Ok. Fine. Say you magically get the watch, and figure out the time schedule. How do you propose we get out of these cells?" David asks.

"There's no sneaky way of doing this. We'd have to time one of the guards coming in for food or whatever, and trick one into getting into my cell. I can get the keys from him," I say.

"How do you think he'll get into cell? Because I think they're smarter than they look." I grin.

"But I'm smarter. Look at my cell. I have extra blankets. That means I'm important to Church, he needs me healthy. If I look ill, they'll come in here to check on me."

"They'll never buy it. They'd call a doctor in, and supervise the visit before they'd enter the cell. There's so many things that can go wrong with this. And you've lost weight, who says you'd be able to fight them off? There would be more than one guard-"

"David, come on. Give her a chance-"

"No, Mira. I've tried every attempt. This won't end well," he grumps and turns away from us. I frown, and grab a rock off the ground. I carve my hand directions onto a small spot in the wall, and then closing my eyes and biting my lip, cut the rock across my hands a bunch of times so it just looks like I've fallen and scratched my hand. Mira watches me the whole time, and when our eyes meet, she gives me a slight nod. It tells me she's on board with whatever I can manage for a plan. I give her one back, but gesture to David, signaling that we need a third person. She nods.

"David… I know you're scared. And I know why. You're afraid that anything you do, will come back to Mia. But would you rather stay here and rot forever? What's the option? If we don't act soon, Mia will be moved to the women's camp. And you know what happens there. Did you ever, even once, think to carve directions into your own skin? Were you ever crazy enough to think of that?" Mira asks. I smile at her, because I think she's complimenting me. David turns, slightly.

"Mira… I can't even see out my three. What use would I be?" he asks, step forward, putting my hands on the bars to his cell.

"Then I guess I'd cover your three. And whatever else I had to. Because I'm doing this, with or without your participation, and I'm dragging your ass out with me," I replied forcefully. He turns, looking at me with fear and for the first time, hope.

"Brenna… you may be the craziest person I've ever met… and that may be exactly what we needed. Alright. We'll try. But I want this thought out. Carefully planned, not rushed. No matter how long it takes," he says. I grin from ear to ear, nodding. The prison door swings open, and I walk away from David's cell. Church himself walks in, which was rare.

"Brenna, how are we feeling today?" he asks. I curl my fist around the bars of my cell, glaring at him.

"Let's put it this way, I wouldn't advise opening these doors right now unless you plan on bringing in more guards."

He scoffs.

"Well, once upon a time I could've believed you. But now? You've lost muscle, and you're probably weaker than you were. Anyway, you'll want to come with me when I tell you what I have for you," he says in a sing-song voice. I narrow my eyes.

"What?"

"Oh, just some details on Barney and the Rascal's. Information, I would recommend, that you would want to know," he says. A fire I didn't realize was there suddenly burned brightly at the mention Barney's name. My fists tensed around the bars, and Church notices.

"What details?"

"His whereabouts. What he's been up to," he comments nonchalantly.

"I don't give a shit where he is," I spat at him. He shakes his head.

"Trust me, you do."

"And why, pray tell, would I?" I ask. He grins.

"Come find out," he says. I don't want to, Barney means nothing to me now, but for whatever reason, I want to follow him. And I realize, it's another opportunity to map out the complex.

"Alright."

He opens the cell, and I follow him out. David watches me leave with anxious eyes, but I give him a reassuring nod and show him the rock in my hand. He rolls his eyes, grinning.

 _Barney's POV_

 _I was running, toward a post where Brenna was tied to. It was just me, and she was alone. She was unconscious, with a rag shoved in her mouth. I pull it out, and it wakes her up. Her eyes meet mine, and I expect to see relief. Instead, she kicks me away. She twists her hands free, and picks up a metal knife from behind her, swinging it at me._

" _Brenna! It's me! Stop!" I yelled, dodging her blows._

" _You could have saved her! You killed her!" she roared, and before she can deliver a final blow, a shot rings out. The knife drops from her hand, and blood pools on her shirt by her chest. Church stands behind her, gun in hand. She drops to the ground, and I catch her body. She lays across my lap, and finally, I can see the old Brenna return. Not the ravaged, angry person I saw before._

" _I saved your life. You're welcome," Church gloats, gesturing to my dying daughter._

" _Barney… I'm sorry…" she croaks in my arms, tears forming in her eyes. She looks so ashamed, and apologetic. This wasn't how she should feel, she was just manipulated. It wasn't her fault. I shake my head._

" _No, no don't feel like that. Save your strength, you'll be okay. It's okay," I hold her closely, but she was growing cold in my arms._

" _I just… didn't know…" she weeps, and I shake my head._

" _I forgive you. I'm sorry too. Sorry for everything. Just hang on, kid," I whisper, looking around wildly for help. But the life in her eyes drains, her skin goes ice cold, and she falls limp across my lap. I shake her._

" _Brenna! Brenna!" I yell, and Church just cackles._

 _No. No. Come back._

The nightmares started the first 24 hours she was gone. They'd only gotten worse, and it had been two weeks. Two whole weeks she's been God only knows where in the world. And I wasn't usually one for holidays, but with Christmas come and passed, it was just painful. I knew she was excited for the holidays.

Each time, I launch up in bed sweating. I don't even know why I bother trying to sleep. It only brings me pain. I put my head in my hands, trying to calm down. My only fear was that it took him two years to bring to my attention that Sabrina was dead. He could very easily do the same to Brenna.

"Barney? You alright?" Tool says from outside my door. _Shit._ I must have been yelling in my sleep again. Fuck. What was wrong with me, I let this kid get into my head too much. But even as I think that, I know why. She's my daughter, and I love her. And I should have told her how much I cared before she was gone. Now she'll ever know, and God only knows what she thinks about me.

"Yea I'm good," I call.

"You sure?"

"Yea," I mutter, and I hear him walk away. I take a shaking breath.

 _I need to get her back._

 _Thorn's POV_

I stayed in her room most nights because it still smelled like her, but I didn't sleep. If I did, I'm sure I'd share the same nightmares Barney has. When I sleep, it's usually at my desk. I've stayed glued to the surveillance screen, even when Drummer had gone back to D.C, saying it was no use and she was as good as gone.

 _Gone._

The word gave me shivers. When Drummer announced it, I saw Barney's whole demeanor shift. I've seen him moody, I've seen him pissed, and I've seen him upset. I've never seen him depressed. He still tried like hell every day to find her though. Some days he'd even take off on his own, or with Christmas, on a hunch of where they think Church might be. But it's always a wild goose chase. Drummer would call sometimes, telling us any new info, but it was always scarce. And never helpful. The whole team was blue. We've never felt so useless in our lives. Regardless of what happened, Church had to be taken out. And we weren't an inch closer than we were two weeks ago.

"You should take a break. Get some rest," an exhausted Barney says from the doorway of the parlor. Tool had just gone upstairs to check on him, he wasn't sleeping anymore. Like I was.

"No. I'm good. How about you?" I ask. He shakes his head grimly.

"Do… do you think she's okay?" I ask, for the first time. Barney sucks in a breath, as if the question causes him pain.

"God I hope so," he closes his eyes, pained. I looked out the window, and the early morning rays of sun starting to brighten the sky. It would have normally brought me hope and inspiration for the new day.

Instead, every sunrise is a reminder that she isn't here. Barney gets a phone call and it makes him jump. He answers it immediately when he sees the caller ID. I shift toward him in interest.

"Drummer, what is it?" he asks, and I stand out of hope. _Could it be?_

"Do you think it's anything?... Ok. Yes. We'll start there. Thank you," Barney hangs up and turns to me.

"We caught a loose end from Church. We can work our way to him from here," he says, almost smiling. But it could be even longer before we actually find him. But this was a start.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Hi! Hope you are enjoying the story, this chapter is exceptionally long due to the content. I didn't want to separate the chapter up into smaller portions because I liked the way it flowed all together. Adds for an adrenaline-feel. Anyway, feel free to leave a review to tell me how it's going, and enjoy!**_

 _Brenna's POV_

In the weeks that followed, I had gotten my strength back. I was still giving Mirembe extra food from my plate, because I had extra to give now. David insisted he didn't need any, and to build up my strength as much as possible. We were still planning our break out. I just had to get a watch. But it was getting harder and harder to stay focused.

Every day, doctors came in and injected me with low doses of that drug. At first, it was unbearable. But it had been three weeks almost since they started doing it, and my tolerance has improved. Unfortunately, each time the drug was injected I was reminded of the first time it was in my system. I was reminded of the things I was used for, the things Barney Ross had done to fuck up my life. It made it hard to concentrate on anything else. Church had been pulling me out daily, and forcing me to spar with his oafy henchmen. My best guess was that he was trying to see what the physical ramifications of the drug were over long periods of time. He also gave me weapons training, and I'm sure I gave him quite a show. I'd improved my skills due to the intense anger and frustration I felt, it made me unstoppable. And fast, very fast. He'd also keep me updated on Barney's activities. But a few weeks ago was the hardest bit of news to hear.

" _So, what is it you want to show me?" I ask, following Church and carving directions into my hand. We were walking for what seemed like forever, and I was worried I was running out of room on my palm._

" _Barney had the help of the CIA in the palm of his hand, yes?" he asks. I shrug._

" _Uh, he had one friend, yeah. I mean, I'm sure he had more than he said. But I know for sure he at least had one."_

" _Well his friend that was helping him? They sent him back to D.C."_

" _And?"_

" _Well, surveillance and search is what his job is. Meaning he was looking for you," he comments. I pause, furrowing my brow. Then, I understand what he means._

" _They gave up," I finish. He nods, giving me a fake sympathy gaze. "Oh please, like you care. I'm surprised that they even did, for a little bit."_

" _Well that's why I came and got you. From what I understand, and forgive me if I'm wrong, but you weren't exactly… important to them. So I did some digging to find out why they were after you…"_

" _And?"_

" _Well, here," he hands me a large document._

The document had stated that I had been declared by the CIA dangerous, because I knew an agent's identity (Drummer) and because I knew they've hired mercenaries likes Barney to do various tasks. Barney was the one that had signed the report, stating I was a liability. In other words, they were looking for me to bring me in for questioning or incarceration for telling state secrets. Not because they wanted me back. The document itself was long, and it just consisted of various photos of me that was supposedly picture evidence of what I knew.

For example, the night Thorn kissed me on the roof. There were pictures of other nights I was on the roof. There were various other pictures of Barney and I, out in public for different reasons There was a picture of Drummer and I in the same room, briefly, when I was being carried in unconscious from when Barney drugged me. That one really lit the fire that was within. All of this was being used against me, Barney knew I wasn't in any way a liability. He just didn't want to be held responsible for what I knew. So he filed the report stating I had run off with state secrets.

It was incredible how masterful he was at deceiving me. But now, I was smarter. I was stronger. And if for whatever reason he came back into my life, he wouldn't last two seconds.

I was in a sparring match currently, and today, they'd really kicked it up a notch. The guy they put in was three times my size and not taking it easy at all.

"Church, how about you tell your guy to chill, would you?" I wheeze after he delivers a blow to my ribs. They're definitely bruised after that. He comes at me again, but I roll out of the way.

"Why? You can take him," he encourages.

"Why does it matter? You've been running these tests for weeks, have you not concluded that I can handle the drug in my system?" I demand. Church grins.

"Oh, that's not what these tests are for. This is training. Answer me this: how do you feel every time you're injected?" he asks.

"Angry," I answer simply, continuing to deflect blows that were being delivered. It was wearing me out.

"Why?" he asks. I give him a sarcastic look.

"Because it's like a trigger. I'm reminded of all the stupid ways I was tricked," I spat, anger boiling my blood once more. It was the rage that kept me going anymore. David told me over and over being angry solves nothing. But even if I wanted to calm down, I couldn't. I always felt just so angry.

"And the ways Barney made you weak-"

"Do not bring him up," I warn.

"All the ways he abused you, his team abused you-"

"Shut up!" I snap.

A fuse burns out, and when the man comes running at me again, I grab his arm and use it to climb to his neck. I wrap my legs around his neck and flip backwards, pulling him down to the ground and choking him. He taps out.

"That's why I do these tests. Because you're angry, and you'll end up killing your cellmates through the cages," he comments. I snort.

"Like you give a fuck," I comment dryly, huffing. Church slams down the papers he's reading, in anger.

"I gave you extra blankets, I give you extra food, I allow you to sneak it to your friend, I let you come in here and burn off steam. And you think I don't give a fuck?" he demands, and I hesitate. I never realized he did all of those things. I wasn't fooled, obviously, he was a terrible man. That wasn't going to change. But I didn't understand why he let me have all of these privileges.

"Why?" I demand. He sighs.

"I've told you before. We're on the same team. The only question now is, do you know which side you're on?" he asks. I open my mouth to respond, but I can come up with no answer. I wanted nothing but to escape, make sure he dies, and make sure Barney dies.

"Whatever side gets me what I want," I answer honestly.

"Well, then it sounds like you know what side you're on," he says, looking smug.

"I'm sure as shit not on yours," I retort, and he just grins.

"But you're not on Barney's either," he gloats.

"Well that means I'm somewhere in the middle then," I comment, mainly to myself. Church nods, but looks hesitant.

"Barney and the Rascals have been… interfering with business lately…" he says slowly, as if he was asking me a question. I raise an eyebrow.

"And?"

"He's going to have to be taken out, Brenna," he sighs, continuing to look at whatever document he was holding.

"Look, what you do isn't exactly moral, Church. If you two end up taking each other out, it isn't exactly a bad day for me," I sigh, ripping off my knuckle tape.

"Actually, I was asking if you'd want to be the one to take him out," he offers, and I freeze.

"What do you mean?" I whisper, barely even speaking.

"He may not be after you, but he's sure as shit after me. So, I'm prepared to offer you a deal," he says, and I narrow my eyes.

"What deal?"

"I want you to take him out. And if you do, I'll let you walk free," he says and my heart stops.

 _Free?_

I hadn't felt the sun in a month. I hadn't felt the wind on my skin, grass under my feet, fresh air in my lungs. I could walk out, go home. Wherever home was now.

"You're lying. You just want me to do your dirty work, and you'll throw me back in once I'm done," I mutter, because it's too good to be true.

"I understand your distrust. I would be too. But I have no use for you after all of this," he sighs, but I frown.

"What about David and Mirembe?" I ask, and Church raises an eyebrow.

"What about them?"

"They go too. And Mia, David's little sister," I bargain, and Church cackles.

"I said you go free. This isn't a bargain," he levels with me. My mouth sets into a stubborn line and I cross my arms.

"Then no deal," I say. Church snorts.

"You give up a chance to kill Barney, over two pathetic-"

My temper boils, and I rear my fist back to punch him. He catches it, twisting my wrist until I fall over. He grabs my arms, cuffing them once more. But instead of taking me back to the cell, he pulls me into the lab. But he takes me a different way, so I continue carving directions into my hands. My heart accelerates when I see a door on the way to the lab that had light, really light, under it. It was an exit. I carve an E into my hand.

"I was prepared to offer you a kindness. Now I see this has gone unnoticed, and you're ungrateful. Allow me to show you how cruel I can be," he roars in my face, and throws me onto a table.

 _David's POV_

It had been approximately three hours, if I had to guess, and Brenna still wasn't back. I began to pace, and so did Mira. But he'd also been putting her through strength testing. It was odd. She'd gained all of her muscle back, plus some extra. My guess is that they were putting supplements in her food. It would explain why Mirembe looks so much better. I had a feeling why, but I couldn't be sure.

But then, the screaming starts. This was a different kind of screaming. It wasn't drugs, it wasn't hallucinating. It was a familiar type of scream, it was pain. It was torture.

 _Brenna._

Mira and I share the same look, and start pounding on the cages. Shit. God only knows what he was doing to her.

The screaming continued for what felt like an hour. It was horrifying to listen to. Mira had begun to shake, tear up even. Brenna's screams grew quieter as she began to lose her voice. But eventually, they stop all together. And then five minutes later, two guards are dragging her in and throw her in her cell roughly. She's unresponsive, and I don't see the damage to her because she's facing down. Church is behind them.

"What did you do to her?" I roar, and he only glares at me.

"Exactly what she deserved. Her loyalty is going to get her killed. Maybe she learned something," he hisses.

"What do you mean?" Mira asks.

"She had the choice to walk away. She wouldn't without you. So congratulations. She's loyal to you, but now she'll rot here forever like you as well," he yells and storms out of the room. Mira's hands fly to her mouth, but before I can react, I pick up a rock and throw it at a guardsmen. It strikes him in the head, and he whirls around, furious. He storms into my cell, ready to fight me.

My part of the plan was working.

 _Brenna's POV_

I woke up to Mira yelling about something, something at David. I roll over, groaning. The pain was unbearable, indescribable. I hear Mira gasp.

"David, look at her," she trembles. David sucks in a breath too.

"Jesus Christ. Brenna, are you with us?" he asks. I didn't need a mirror to know that I looked bad. I just nodded, but even that hurt to do.

"How bad is it?" I croaked. I couldn't sit up to look at myself.

"You need to crawl over here, I need to look at your wounds. There's a lot of blood, Brenna. Please," David urges, and the alarmed tone of his voice gives me the strength to crawl over to the bars slowly.

I'm able to look down at myself now. My leg had a large wound that was still bleeding badly. My arms and shoulders had cuts and stab marks up and down them, and I felt more than saw the head wound. The warm, sticky familiar feeling of blood running down the side of my face from my temple. I pulled up my hand.

"Carve this… on the wall. Before it fades," i say weakly, and David turns and carved the instructions on the wall. Then he adds the directions to the map. Then he scoffs in disbelief.

"The map is complete, Brenna. You did it," he says, taking my hand gently. I nod, trying to give him a smile. But I was so weak. I noticed he had a head wound too.

"What happened?" I ask, nodding towards his head.

"He's stupid," Mira mutters. David only grins at her.

"Well, if you had taken a moment to listen to me instead of yelling at me, you would know that I may have lost the battle, but I won the war," he grins, holding up a watch. I lift my head in disbelief.

"How did you..?"

"I lured one of the guards in. He beat me to a pulp, but I put up a decent fight. I managed to get the watch off of him when he was beating my face in. He came back to look for it a while ago, but I had it hidden."

"David… thank you," I breathe, actually smiling for once. But his face falls.

"Actually, we owe you a thank you," he says, but also looks sad. Mira nods.

"You're a dumbass, Bren. You could've walked free. You could have gone home," he says hoarsely, and he looks guilty. I reach through the bars and take his hand.

"I'm not leaving without you guys. And everyone else. The last thing I see from this place will be the way it burns to the ground."

"But you could've-"

"It wasn't happening. The only reason I'm still half human is because of you guys. I owe you everything," I squeeze his hand lightly, resting against the bars. He puts a hand on my face gently, tilting it up to see the wound. Our eyes meet briefly and he caresses my face softly with the back of his knuckles. I lean into his hand, sighing.

"Christ, what did they do to you in there?" he mutters to himself. I chuckle slightly.

"Their worst. And I'm still standing," I smile to myself. David just shakes his head, smiling.

"You're nuts, but we love you, Bren," he sighs. I open my eyes, looking at him and Mira. She just nods, smiling.

"Thank you," she rasps, choked up. I smile and nod, closing my eyes again.

"I love you guys too," I murmur as I lean against the bars. David tends to my wounds as best he can, and for the first time in a long time, I felt relaxed. Despite what happened, the pain of had been enduring, I felt stronger. Different. Like I had something to fight for. A new family.

It had been a week, which we knew exactly thanks to the watch, since the day I was tortured. I had been officially in the prison for two months, if my marks on the wall were correct. I hadn't realized I missed Christmas until I did the math, and that was a dark day for me. My wounds were healing okay, my leg was the concern. It took some effort to keep it from infecting. But eventually I was able to stand. I hadn't been out fighting since the day Church took me out. But my rations were still large, so obviously he hadn't gave up on me. Mira was looking good too, she and I had been working out in our cells to build strength. I was doing push ups when David woke up.

"God, you know, you don't have to always be working on something," he mutters. I scoff.

"It beats sitting around," I get up and stretch, pacing back and forth. Today was a good day so far, and when David starts singing a Backstreet Boys song, I start laughing uncontrollably. It's the first time I've laughed in ages. Even David looks shocked. But soon, Mira knows the song too and we're all singing how we want it that way and Mira is asking what the song means.

The plan was going well. We were able to track specific times guards were in and out. It was getting easy to predict their movements, even with just listening to them outside the door. But with that, came a certain amount of anxiety. It meant that we would soon have to follow through with the next step of the plan. Which was getting out. The only problem was that we weren't going anywhere until we had a way to far away.

I hadn't considered what I was going to do if this plan worked. I couldn't go back to the US now, and if Church manages to escape and live, he'd come back after me. I'd have to disappear completely. Not even Mira and David could come with me. It would be too dangerous.

As if detecting what I'm thinking about, Mira asks, "Brenna, what will you do if by some miracle this works?"

"Get far away, really fast. Hope Church gets killed, and if he doesn't, disappear," I sigh. Mira frowns.

"Where will we go?"

"Not we, Mirembe. Me," I say, looking away. David looks at me, bewildered.

"And where would we be going? Because Church would come after us too. Hell, he'd come after us to get to you," he scoffs. I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. I hadn't thought of that.

"We disappear together. Get far away," Mirembe says, looking off into the distance. I frown at her.

"Luanda is your home," I tell her, and she narrows her eyes.

"Everyone I know and love is dead from home. Luanda feels less like home and more like hell after all these years. I want to go to Italy," she smiles fondly. I laugh.

"I'm technically Italian, I'll take you," I mutter as a joke. She points at David laughing.

"Godammit. I was so sure," David mutters, looking away.

"What?" I demand.

"David was positive you were Latina. But you didn't seem at all Latina. So I figured it was Italy, or France," Mirembe taunts David, and I laugh.

"I'm American. My mother was a second generation Italian, her mother was 1st generation. But she married a Latino, hence the last name Arvelo. So my mother was half Italian, half Latina. And then… Barney was Italian too," I say quickly, because even the name still brought on rage. But I realize now, it had been a full week before he had even crossed my mind. I shifted on my blankets, and my healing wounds protested. Barney was the reason I was in here, I would get my revenge.

"Actually, we'd disappear. But I have some business to take care of afterwards," I mutter. David frowns.

"You shouldn't let it get to you so much," he sighs. My head snaps up.

"I've been injected daily with a drug that feels like it burns every inch of body, I've been tortured, starved, and told all of the horrors he did to me without my knowledge. David, he let my mother die," I rant. David, though I can tell he understands, shakes his head.

"Revenge isn't always the way to make one feel better. Trust me. Revenge ruled my head for years. I've only just learned that sometimes, people are soulless and fucked up. You just live and let live. Move on," he sighs.

"So if Church was in here, there were no other outside factors, and you had a gun, you wouldn't shoot him? For Mia?" I ask. David's head snaps up.

"In a heartbeat. But Mirembe and I both have killed people before. It changes you. Forever. I just don't want that for you, it turns your soul black," he closes his eyes, showing the pain and rage that was deep within. I shake my head.

"You don't understand. My soul? It's already gone. It was taken by a man named Barney Ross. He ripped it out, spat on it, and tore it to shreds. There's nothing left of the Brenna that lived in the shadows of his secrecy. And I want it back," I spat, raging through my answer. Mira and David nod, completely understanding.

"And the truth shall set you free, as they say," David sighs. I snort in disagreement.

"In my case, it got me locked up in a prison in Africa," I mumble. Mirembe giggles, and my head whips to her wildly. Why on earth was she laughing? David cracks a smile too, and starts laughing. I get it now though. It was kind of ironic. I lean my head back and laugh too, letting myself find some humor within all the fucked up shit.

"So… when do you think is a good time to go through with this?" David asks, and I grimace.

"When I can convince myself it'll work and I'm feeling crazy enough to try," I joke weakly, but there was a serious undertone to it as well.

"There's three of us. How are we even going to stand a chance, and with cameras everywhere?"

"Don't go cold on me now," I whine, and David laughs.

"I'm just saying!"

"I know. We'll figure out something. We've got the time," I mutter bitterly. David scoffs in agreement.

Church suddenly bursts in, with excitement in his eyes. He's holding a syringe.

"Well, I'd hate to bring our time to an end here Brenna, but somehow, your rascals have managed to find us. So it's show time!" he says with excitement.

"You mean… they're here?" I ask with a shaking breath.

"On their way. They'll be walking into a death trap, but they're arrogant enough to know that and think they can handle it," he rips open my cage, and I back away from him.

"Keep that away from me," I seethe, bracing my feet apart in an attack stance. My eyes follow the needle that contains the drug. Church runs at me, and I dodge him and bring my knee to his stomach. He drops to the ground with a grunt, but stabs my leg with the drug. It spreads across my system, and the familiar burning starts.

" _Barney, she won't remember a thing-"_

"Shut up!" I roar, familiar flashbacks bringing my blood to boil, spiraling through my veins. It pushes the burning sensation across my skin faster. But I'm able to tolerate it now. I breathe in deeply, welcoming the pain.

"That's it, Brenna. Remember the pain. Come with me," Church says, getting up.

"What did you do to her?" Mirembe yells at him.

"A drug that causes her so much pain that I've managed to condition her to tolerate it, but only when she can focus on one thing: her hatred and anger," Church gloats.

"That's disgusting. You've turned her into a weapon," David says, appalled.

"That was the entire point. So she wouldn't be able to hesitate pulling the trigger while the drug is in her system. See, she thinks now if she kills whoever is the source of her pain, the physical pain will stop."

"And when she does? What will she do when she realizes it doesn't?"

"Keep killing until the drug wears off. She won't stop as long as she feels the burning."

"You're a disgusting, mad-"

"One more word out of you and I'll cut the other eye!"

He drags me through the tunnels, and forces me into a chair of an empty room. He cuffs me to the chair, and I just glare at him.

"You wait here while I lead our guests in the right direction," he says, and I narrow my eyes.

"Fuck you," I snap, and he just grins as he walks out.

 _Barney's POV_

"Drummer, you're sure this is the dead end? This is where he is?" I ask, both in disbelief and fear. I wanted it to be true, but we'd been on so many missions over the last two months that only put us an inch closer to finding her. I was looking at the coordinates for an abandoned building complex in Luanda, Angola. It was abandoned, but on radar, was quite obviously active. It was within a ghost town area of Luanda, a common trait with buildings in the city.

"I'm positive Barney. I've got Trench and Yang already down there, surveying the area, mapping out details and patterns. They've been there for weeks, but yesterday they saw him. He's definitely there. It's not his main complex, he runs the drug and armory shipments somewhere else we haven't found yet. But this is where he sends the people he wants gone. God only knows how many agents are in there. And their families. Or locals-"

"We'll pack up and leave now."

"Now?" he asks.

"Now." I hang up the phone, punching in the coordinates on Thorns screen. He jumps awake, and looks around. He'd become so exhausted within the last month, but he kept himself healthy. He wanted to be as ready as I was when it was finally time to get her.

"Sorry Barney, I haven't slept since Tuesday-"

"And you aren't going to unless you do on the plane. So I would advise doing it then," I advise as the radar focuses in on the complex that Drummer told me about. Thorn looks at me and the screen several times.

"Why?" he asks quietly, and I know it's because he's afraid we could be wrong. We have been before.

"Because we found her."

Only an hour later were we on our way, it would be a long flight thankfully, so I advised the team to sleep. They would need it. Even Galgo slept, which was rare. I told Tool to stay back, because I wasn't sure if this was even a 100% find. It seemed like it. But we'd been wrong before, and I wasn't sure I could handle always getting my hopes up.

"Are you nervous?" Christmas asks from the co-pilot's seat. My fists flex around the controls.

"I'm mainly pissed. But yes, I'm anxious. I don't know if she's even in there. I just know he is, and I know that he knows where she is. I just need him alive," I explain, and Christmas nods.

Once we landed, we rendezvous with Trench and Yang, who give us the full details of the complex.

"Aerial support will show up within the hour," Trench explains.

"Drummer is coming?" I ask, bewildered.

"And then some. They really want this son of a bitch. You're always getting yourself into trouble Barney, what did you do this time?" Trench bitches. Christmas makes a cutting motion across his throat, telling him to knock it off. I pull up my binoculars, eyeing the complex.

"My daughter could be in there," I say simply, and I see Yang and Trench's mouths drop open.

We waited until dark, and began moving in. Thorn had his computer strapped to his wrist, knocking out any electrical defenses as we went. We were trying to keep it as stealth as possible.

"Is anyone else noticing a familiar pattern?" Toll Road asks in the COMS set.

"This place is formulated like a prison? Yeah," Smilee responds, and I ignore them for my own best interest. I couldn't get my hopes up. We walked by two open doors, and we checked the room for any signs of Church or Brenna. It was some kind of surgical room or a lab. There was dried blood on the tables surrounding, it wreaked of death, and there were utensils everywhere. Torture equipment. I turn my gaze from the empty room immediately, for fear of the condition Brenna was in.

"Barney… the prison complex is huge. We're just in the central corridors. I doubt she would've been in here-"

"Up ahead. I see two heat signatures," Thorn interrupts. We position around the door, and burst in. Two prisoners launch up from their spots on the wall, freaked out. A man and woman, about Brenna's age. The man had so much scar tissue and a blind eye, he looked like something from a nightmare. The woman, a local from the looks of it, had less scarring but was very obviously deprived of natural vitamins. We go to turn away, except something over the woman's shoulder catches my eye. It was a red hoodie, it was filthy and torn, but it was familiar.

"You. Where did you get that jacket?" I demand. She narrows her eyes.

"Who's asking?" she counters in a foreign accent. I raise my gun to her.

"Someone who doesn't have a whole lot of time. Whose jacket is that?" I ask again. She nods to the cell across from her.

"The girl who lives in that cell."

"Who lives in the cell?" I roar.

"David? Do you know that girls name?" she asks the man with one eye. He decided to play along, but when he sees my face, his smile fades.

"Oh my god. It's you," he whispers. My attention is turned to him.

"You know me?"

"You're Barney, aren't you?" he asks, and I take a staggering step back. I was in the right place. We found her.

"Yes. Yes I am. Where's Brenna? Is she alright?" I ask.

"Barney, we need to keep moving-"

"There's cameras in this room, and Church already knows you're here. He's planning something, he came and took Brenna a while ago. If you even care," David hisses at me, narrowing his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I inquire.

"You know what. You've made Brenna's life turn completely upside down. You killed her mother, drugged her, interrogated her, pretended you were close and then to top it off? Abandoned her. And if you're here to take her out for whatever reason? I promise you, you'll have to get through me first," he threatens menacingly.

"Me too," the woman says behind me, glaring at us. I stare at them, shocked.

"Is that what Church has been feeding her?" I ask, mainly to myself. _Fuck. She really was going to try to kill me._

David, the man in the first cell, gets a sudden realization on his face.

"Oh my god. None of it is true, is it?" he asks, bewildered. I shake my head.

"Barney, you're walking into a shitstorm. He's manipulated her, tortured her, turned her into basically a weapon. She's been conditioned to associate pain with you, meaning while she's on an hallucinogen, she'll think the pain will stop once you're dead," he explains, and my heart stops momentarily. Fucking Christ, it was worse than I thought. Church would pay ten time worse for any moment of pain she was ever in.

"Is… is she okay?" I ask, looking at her cell. There were marks of every day for the last two months on her wall. That's where she lived. No bed, a hole for a toilet, it was freezing, and limited access to sunlight.

"This place is a shithole. I've done my best to keep her from letting it destroy her but… there's only so much I can do. You need to be warned because… she's not going to be the same Brenna you remember. And that's even if you can manage to get her to listen to you," David explains.

"Stand back," I say, and shoot the lock. And then I shoot the woman's lock. "I need you two to take me to wherever she is," I explain. They exchange a look. Then they go into Brenna's cell, and rip the blankets from where they were. Underneath was a carving of the complex, an estimated map. Some points were kind of wrong, but for the most part it was right.

"Did she do this?" I ask. David nods, smiling with pride.

"She's smart, your daughter. Most of the time we're either too drugged up or blindfolded when we get back from the lab. But Brenna found a way to remember the directions by carving them onto her palm with a sharp rock. She was constantly being taken in and out, she had the map complete only about a week ago. She also figured out that the guards rotate on schedule and we managed to steal a watch. She paid attention, figured out the schedule," he explained.

"She was planning an escape?" Caesar asks.

"Yes and no. She was making the plans for a plan, kind of. There was still a lot to do. But if this map is correct and if I'm remembering the layout right, Church will want you in the hangar. It's open, it's big, and it's got a lot of vantage points for snipers. Like I said, you'll walk into a shit show. He would have likely brought her there. And he's waiting on you."

"Trench? Did you get all of that?" I ask.

"Loud and clear. Moving positions to provide cover in the hangar. Aerial is inbound, I'll patch the COMs through when they're in range," he relays from his position on the hill.

"Show us the way," I tell the two prisoners, and they nod and walk out. They quickly run into the torture room and walk out with two rifles.

"Brenna was right about this too, she knew there were weapons in here," David explains.

"Damn, she kept busy," Doc mutters.

We're led to the hanger, and Thorn stops us.

"There's no heat signatures. Nothing," he shows me the scan, repeats it, and then shows me again. We creep into the dark hangar quietly. It's empty aside from a few shipping containers placed here and there.

"I don't like this Barney," Gunnar grumbles. Mars and Luna nod their heads in agreement but continue to move forward quietly.

"Hold it. Multiple signatures. Approaching from dead ahead. Take cover," Thorn hisses, and we all split up and hide behind several shipping containers.

The hangar lights buzz on as I hear men enter.

"Barney! Let's just skip the rude beginnings and come out and talk like civilized men! Besides, I know you're in here. Because I know David led you to here. Pretty impressive, your daughter. How's the stretched legs, Mirembe? David?" Church calls out. Mirembe and David tense up.

"Where is she, Church?" I call out from my cover. He laughs.

"Did you think I would just hand her over?" he says, amused.

"No, but I know you're a sick bastard that can't wait to gloat about how you've won. So get on with it!"

"Fair enough, old friend. Bring her out!"

It's silent for a moment, then I hear yelling. Then the yelling becomes louder. I realize it's her voice, and I can't keep from seeing her. It's the closest I've been in months, and before I can stop myself, I walk from my cover. My team follows, covering me. Then, two men emerge with Brenna in their grasp.

"Get your stupid fucking hands off of me, you son of a bitch!" she roars, and I've never seen felt so relieved to hear her be so mad. Clearly she hasn't changed that much… I hoped.

She had gained some muscles since I last saw her, but she was covered in cuts and bruises. Her eyes were glazed over, I can tell she was drugged, and her black hair was matted on one side from the blood of a head wound that had also gone down the side of her face. Her leg was also covered in dry blood and she walked with a slight limp.

Suddenly, she grabs one of the two men holding her by the hand and twists it back until I hear a cringy snap of his wrist. He yells out in pain, and she continues her assault by driving her elbow into his ribs, and then hauling him over her shoulder. She kicks his head into the ground, knocking him out. She takes his holstered gun and points it at her other captor, and shoots his knee. He falls to the ground howling in pain. Then she points the gun at Church. _Damn. She's been really busy._

"Hello, Brenna. You sure do like to make an entrance," Church says dryly. She cocks the gun, her eyes full of hatred. She still hadn't seen me. All of Church's men point their guns at her, and we point ours at them.

"Now Brenna, you've shown me how clever you are over our time together. What makes more sense? Taking me out and getting immediately gunned down? Or taking out the man that caused you so much anger, and pain?" he points in my direction, and Brenna follows his hand. Her eyes widen when she sees me across the hangar, and our eyes meet. But even though David warned me, I was still blown away by how much she had changed. I saw the pure, unadulterated hatred in her eyes for me. I saw how black her heart had become. But I also saw how incredibly hurt she was, and exhausted. She looked terrible, the more I looked at her. But I could ignore all of that, all of the anger. But the hurt that was deeply rooted within her soul was indescribable. Her heart wasn't just black, it was in pieces.

"Oh kid, what did they do to you?" I whisper to myself. I forget sometimes we're all on COMs sets, and they give me a quick sympathetic look. I ignore it.

"You brought them here!" she roared at Church, her hand shaking with the gun in it. Shit. She was angry and unstable enough to shoot anyone right now. _It's just the drug, Barney. It's not her._

"No they came on their own. To take me out. Likely you in the process," he comments.

"Don't listen to a damn thing he says, Brenna. He's been lying to you, manipulating you-"

"And you haven't?" she cried, pointing the gun at me. _Fuck._

"Brenna, I lied to you. I shouldn't have kept what happened to your mom a secret. But I didn't know anything about what happened to her. I didn't know Church found her. I never did," I say calmly. Her hand tightens around the gun.

"Liar," she whispers, cocking the gun.

"Barney, what do we do?" Christmas asks under his breath. I put a hand up to signal them to stay put. I walked forward a little bit.

"You used me. Interrogated me, drugged me, told the US government that I took off with state secrets just so you could save your own skin!" she shouts, and I stop in my tracks. I look at Church. He must've seriously fucked with her to get her to believe all of that. And he was going to pay.

"You fucking lunatic," I roar at him, and he just grins.

"Tit for tat. I told you I'd get back," he says in a sing-song voice. He really was nothing like the Church I knew from several years ago. Something must've happened to him to make him change so much.

"Brenna. I never did any of that. None of it is true. He's lying to screw with your head!" I tell her and she shakes her head.

"I've seen the documents. The pictures that framed me. I _remember_ you asking me about what I knew about Church! You drugged me!" she hisses. I realize now that Church used the drug to play with the empty spaces of her memories. I remember the night she was drugged. I had technically used it to get information. It was wrong. But I never drugged her nor planned on interrogating her. _This was all so fucked up, because it was still technically true._ Except the part about selling her out to the agency.

"I never went to the agency about you. Those documents were easily forged. Church is ex-CIA, is it that much of a stretch that he would do something like that?" I ask, and I can see the doubt plant in her head. _That's it. Work it out._

She looks at Church with a confused expression, and I can see the panic on his face.

"Don't forget your mother, Brenna. It was his fault," he urges. Any doubt in her head vanishes, as she firms her grasp on the gun. I keep walking toward her slowly.

"Don't," she whispers, pulling the gun up. I stop, because I'm still not sure the extent she's willing to go.

"Brenna. I loved your mother. I still do. You know this," I tell her lowly. Tears form in her eyes.

"Shut up!" she yells and pulls the trigger. The bullet hits my chest, but thank god for body armor. It still knocks me on the ground, and now I realize, she's too far gone.

"Take cover!" I yell to the team, and soon, Church's men open fire. I roll behind a shipping container. Christmas makes it over to me.

"She actually fucking shot you! Are you good?" he yells over the gunfire. I groan.

"Thank god for Kevlar," I mutter, "Trench! Mow the lawn! Do NOT shoot the girl!"

"Got it. I kind of like her, she just did what I've always wanted to do," he mutters. I roll my eyes. Always has an attitude. David makes his way over to us. He was a pretty good shot, which makes me wonder how he managed to get up in here.

"Barney, you have to remember that this isn't her. You were getting in her head. You have to keep talking to her," he advised. I threw my hands up in the air.

"Sure, I'd be happy to. If she wasn't also trying to fucking shoot me," I tell him. He frowns.

"Did you not see her face when you mentioned her mother? She's in there somewhere. She's scared, alone, and angry. Just get through all of that," he yells over the bullets flying.

"How?"

"Barney! We're pinned down bad, where's that air support?" Toll Road shouts into the COMs set.

"Inbound," I hear Drummer patch through to our COMs. I hear helicopters approach.

"Drummer she's still on their side-"

"Relax, you've got bigger problems out here for when you manage to get out. I'll clear a path," he says.

I peek around the corner and see Brenna clutching her head in agony.

"It's the drug. It's wearing off. Nows your best chance, before he injects her again!" Mirembe she warns. I frown, unsure of whether I should be trusting these two.

"Ok. I'll sneak around and try to grab her. Christmas, get my 6," I bark and start making my way around. When I make it around, Church is nowhere in sight and neither are his guards. Coward. Brenna still had the gun in her hand, and she's hiding behind a barrel with her other hand kneading her forehead. She's hears the commotion of my approach, and stands, pointing the gun at us.

"Brenna, stop!" I yell at her, getting annoyed. Goddammit, she was getting on my nerves. She looked around, and when she didn't see Church, she made a run for it towards the doors. Shit. She was going after him.

She made her way out, and I followed her. Christmas tried to but I stopped him.

"We're on their flank. If you turn around and come from this angle, you'll take out more. Go. I'll go after Brenna," I say.

"But Church-"

"I'll be fine, just go!" I roar and run after her. I heard her footsteps down the hall, running. She'd probably go after the rifles still in the lab, so I went around cut her off. When I entered the lab, she already had the gun and pointed it at me.

"Get out of my way," she pulls the rifle to her shoulder, and I was impressed that she knew how to hold it. I put my hands up.

"Brenna, just listen to me," I begged, but she backed away.

"Stay away from me. I just want Church. You'll never have to see me again if you just move," she hisses, closing her eyes in fury. I shake my head.

"I don't want that. I've never wanted that," I tell her, offended slightly. She opens them, her usually vibrant green eyes were lackluster and full of rage.

"Bullshit! You threw me under to bus to save your ass, and then abandoned me. You never even tried to find me!" she cried. I glared at her.

"I've spent every waking moment for the past two months trying to find you. Every. Fucking. Second. I didn't sleep. Thorn didn't sleep. I went all over the world on wild goose chases, only getting centimeters closer to you. You're in a hole that doesn't officially exist. Don't try to tell me I gave up," I warned lowly, my temper boiling. I wasn't mad at her necessarily, it was Church. He did this to her.

"Right, I'll bet you did," she seethes, and loads the gun.

"Brenna, wait! I lied to you. I hurt you. It was wrong. This wouldn't have happened if I was just honest. But I'm not the reason your mother is dead. I didn't know she was in danger. I would have come running in a second if I did. Because I've always cared about you. From the moment you were born," I tell her calmly. She loses her grip on the gun, but only slightly. It was working.

"You drugged me-"

"I didn't. Church is playing with the holes in your memory. Think. Think harder than you ever have. You were so hurt, and angry, that it made you susceptible to let him brainwash you. He just had to tear you down to nothing first. Then he built back the person he wants you to be. You're letting him win. Look at yourself. Look at your arms, your legs, your health. Is this at all what an honest man would do? Do you think even for a second that he would tell you the truth? He wants you to put a bullet in my brain. Then he wins," I tell her. She shakes her head, backing away still. Her eyes glance at the table of blood, and she begins to shake. _Shit. This poor kid._

"You're lying! It's not true. I'm… it's…"

Tears begin to leak from her eyes as the shaking gets worse. _Keep talking._

"I've lied to you, yes. I thought I was sparing you the heartache of knowing what happened to your mother. Because if I had paid better attention maybe she'd be around still. We can play the 'what if' game all day, but we both know she wouldn't want this-"

"How would you know?! You weren't there!" she cries, lowering her gun. It was working. Sudden inspiration takes me, and I put down my weapon. I knew what I had to do.

"I was when you were born," I tell her, and her jaw drops slightly. "I was there the day you were born. I shouldn't have been, because it only made it harder to walk away. But you were without a doubt the best part of my life. It tore me in half to leave you and your mother. But I had to keep you safe. I had to leave. And I hated myself for it for so long. I'm sorry about your mother, but I wouldn't change a damn thing. Because then you and I would have never met," I tell her, and slowly, I can just barely see the Brenna I know reappear in her eyes. I step forward.

"Don't! Stay back, please," she pleads rather than threatens, but keeps the gun at her side. Maybe she was coming back?

"Why?" I ask her. She shakes her head, and the gun drops to the floor.

"Because I'm not sure how far he's in my head," she sobs, finally aware of how much Church messed with her. Tears now spill freely from her eyes and she covers her mouth to keep from crying. I can tell she'd been holding this back for months now, she's been strong this whole time. The drug has worn off now, and she was more aware. She crumbles to her knees, breaking down. The sight was heart wrenching, I'd never seen her get so low. I take two large steps forward and kick the gun away, and putting mine to the side. Then I engulf her in my arms. She hesitated but throws her arms around me as well, still crying heavily.

"Sh, it's okay. I've got you," I soothe, on my knees as well in front of her.

"Barney I'm so sorry I wasn't stronger, I tried-" she tried to speak, but her words fumble and stutter as she tries to apologize. I smoothed out her hair.

"No one is blaming you. No one ever will. This isn't your fault. If anything, it's mine. I'm sorry, so sorry, Brenna," I apologize, and she doesn't respond. She just nods and slowly, her tears begin to ease.

"Think you can walk okay? We need to keep moving. The guys are pinned out there," I tell her. She pulls out of my arms, wiping her face and nodding. She still looks ashamed, and I recognize the same apologetic face from my nightmares. I wipe the tears from her cheeks, looking at her head wound. I checked all of her wounds across her body. She seemed to be alright, for the most part. There would scarring, and her leg may have nerve damage. She realizes what I'm doing and pulls away.

"I'm ok," she chokes, her throat raw from crying. I grab her wrists, keeping her from pulling away. I turn over her hands and see scratches and scars all over her hands. I smirk.

"David was right. You are nuts," I tease her. Her head snaps up.

"Are they okay?" she asks, worried. I nod.

"Yea they're fine. Probably the best they've ever been actually. They really seem to like you," I tell her and she smiles fondly. But then it fades again, and she goes back to looking ashamed. I help her up, but put two hands on her shoulders.

"You sure you'll be okay?" I ask her, but she avoids my gaze and nods. "Brenna?"

"I'll be ok," she mutters. I sigh and pull her into another hug.

"You'll get through it kid, I promise… I… I love you, Brenna. I'm really, _really_ glad you're alright," I tell her, and she tenses briefly.

"I love you too, Barney," she sniffles quietly.

"Well that's all cute and happy, but that also means I've wasted my time for the last two months. I really thought she'd be harder to fix," Church says behind us, frowning. She whirls away from me, kicking up the rifle and aiming it at him.

"Who the hell said I was fixed? But that's okay, because now I'm strong enough to finally kill you," she glares, taking aim. I was about to reach for her gun and take the shot myself, because I was still against her killing anyone. But then Church raises his gun to her, taking a shot. I'm able to pull Brenna out of the way in time, and we both fall behind the table. When I peek around the table, he's gone.

"Shit!" she swears, and runs after him.

"Brenna, wait!" I call after her, picking up my rifle. She whirls around

"Barney, we can't let him get away-"

"My top priority is getting you out of here. I don't give a rats ass about him-"

"You don't understand. He cannot live after today, not knowing what I know. I wouldn't be able to sleep at night-"

"We'll go with her, just get the evac ready," David and Mirembe appear behind me. I shake my head.

"Not a chance. She's coming with me. You're welcome to come with us, but our ride leaves in five. We don't have time for this-"

"Barney! We have to go, building is rigged to blow! The whole complex, and Church is making a run for it!" Christmas and the team appear behind them. Brenna panics.

"The prisoners. What about the prisoners?" she asks. Christmas looks at her warily, and I give him a reassuring nod. He grins.

"Good to have you back, kid," he says, and she smiles at him slightly.

"They won't make it out in time. You guys need to get out, now. Church has the controls and he can blow the building as soon as he clears the complex," Drummer says on the COMs set. Brenna hears and shakes her head.

"I'm not leaving them. I'm going after them," she turns and I grab her arm.

"Brenna, I can't let you just go-"

"I'm not giving you the choice! There are good people who will die if we don't at least try!" she yells, and David and Mirembe join her side.

"My sister is over there. If she goes down, I'm going with her. I can't leave," David says. Mirembe nods in agreement. Brenna pulls her arm from my grasp. She pulls the rifle up to her shoulder.

"Get out, clear a path, we'll meet up soon," she says. I shake my head.

"I just got you back," I choke, anxiety crippling me. She frowns, and wraps her arms around me briefly.

"And I'll be right back. You have to let me do this. Please," she whispers in my ear.

"Then I'm going with you," I say, and Thorn steps forward.

"So am I," he says, and I realize this is the first time the two have been in proximity to each other since she was taken. She looks at him, and in a flash, she throws her arms around him. He grips her tightly to him, kissing her forehead. He picks her up and spins her, crushing her in a giant hug. I notice out of the corner of my eye, David tenses.

"Miss me?" she asks sarcastically. Thorn scoffs.

"Barely," he says, but I can tell he's trying not to get overwhelmed. She grins up at him.

"Alright. We'll do this. But the longer we're here, the sooner Church gets out. Come on, we've got to go," Christmas says, and Brenna turns and goes to David.

"Okay. David, Mirembe, and I will take Thorn, Christmas, and Gunnar to the main prison complex. We know the route fastest, and the guard schedule. Barney and the rest of you, go after Church. Barney is the only one patched through to Drummer, and he needs to stay in range to communicate what's going on. Church will likely try to escape through the hangar, but I think you're aerial support blew away any transportation he may have had. He has to come back this way to get access to any exit, and he knows we're here. So he'll go to the armory first. It's two rights and a left down the long hallway. He's probably on his way there now. Go," Brenna barks out orders, and I smirk at her. Everyone does.

"What?" she asks.

"Nothing, Ross," Doc tells her with a grin. She winks at him, and turns to run off with her group.

"Wait!" I call after her, and toss her a red flair. "If anything goes wrong on our end, look for green smoke and get the hell out. Anything wrong on your end, pop red smoke and wait for support," I tell her. She pockets the flair, nodding.

"Be careful," I tell her, and she grins.

"Always. See you for dinner," she calls as she runs away. I roll my eyes, turning away with my group. Lord, I missed that girl.

"Christmas, don't let her shoot anyone. Please," I beg into the COMs set quietly so only he could hear.

"Got it," he replies, equally quiet.

 _Brenna's POV_

For the first time in months, my head was clear. I was still pissed at Barney, but it was hard to be mad at him right now. After all, the man came here to save my life. I'd deal with him later. And everyone else that lied to me. But for now I had to help David get his sister and everyone else out.

"Which was are we going, love?" Christmas asks. I look at my palm.

"This is the way out, and then the main prison grounds are just outside," I shout, running faster. My leg protested, and it was getting harder and harder to keep up this pace. Mirembe notices.

"Brenna, your leg-"

"I'm fine. Keep going," I say, ignoring the pain. We didn't have time, if any, to stop for a rest. We burst through the exit doors, and for a moment, David, Mirembe and I are overwhelmed in our senses. The cool air, the full moon, the gentle wind, it was also so foreign. For David and Mirembe especially. They shake briefly when they gaze up at the moon as we run.

"Has it always been that big?" David asks in amazement, mainly to himself. Gunnar, Thorn, and Lee look at the duo and to me multiple times as we run.

"Have you not been outside at all within the last two-"

"Not now," I tell them, shaking my head. But regardless, they got their answer. We get to the gates, and I check David's watch.

"It's second shift. But Church has all the men with him. It's probably not heavily guarded," I whisper, and Gunnar kicks down the door with ease. Christmas and Gunnar enter first.

"We'll take out anyone we see, or anyone that gets in the way. You just get the people out," Gunnar says, and I nod. He smiles at me.

"By the way, I missed you," he grunts. I wink at him with a grin, and turn.

"We need to find a guard to get the keys-"

A shot rings out, and when I turn, Gunnar is pulling keys off of a dead body.

"Got em. Not what?" he asks. I turn to David.

"You've been here three years. What do you know about this place?" I ask. He nods.

"Right. I was in this building for my first year. They're all downstairs in two separate wings, east and west."

"Ok. Thorn, David and I will take east. Lee, take west with Mirembe and Gunnar. We'll meet back here and run like hell to Barney. Keep an ear to your COMs set just in case something goes wrong," I say, and turn quickly to head down east wings staircase.

"When did you get so bossy?" I hear Christmas yell after me, laughing. I roll my eyes. But then I notice David go pale.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Mia is down here," he rasps, and he looks so scared and hopeful. I pull up my rifle and head in, and before I can shoot the guard, Thorn does. I know the game they're playing, Barney doesn't want me to kill anyone. I give him a look.

"Don't start with me. I'm on orders here," he says sheepishly. We reach the prison room, and it's all women. The men must be on west. They all looked to be locals, with some Americans here and there.

"Does anyone here speak English and can translate?" I ask, panicked by how little time we had left. A woman raised her hand.

"Ok. We're here to let you out. When you get out, you need to run as fast as you possibly can up the stairs to the right and out the door at the end of the hallway upstairs. You need to run harder than you ever have in your life, and you need to get as far away from the buildings as possible. Get to the hills, if you can," I yell out, and some Americans understood me. The woman translated and there was a flurry of movement as women approached their cage doors. I tried not to think of the horrors that happened in here daily. We run alongside cages, unlocking all of them as we go.

"She's not here!" David cries, worried. I look around.

"Didn't you say there was a children's hold?" I ask. He nods.

"I didn't think she would still be there but we can try. It's just up here," he says, running out of the room and turning down a hall. But we don't check our corners and there are guards standing by the children's ward coming our way when they heard the commotion. The open fire, and I feel a painful sting shred into my arm and shoulder.

"Ah!" I clutch my shoulder and fall back, and Thorn grabs me and pulls me around the corner. David takes out the two guards easily and runs ahead, letting out the kids.

"Fuck! Where are you hit?" Thorn asks, worried. Blood gushes from my bicep, where two shots have gone into my flesh.

"Just the arm. Shit," I hiss, as the pain intensified.

"This is gonna hurt," he warns, and removes the bullets quickly. He looks surprised when I don't wince, and he wraps my arm in a rag from his pocket.

"Christmas, Brenna was hit in the arm. We're clearing the children's ward. Be up soon," he says into the COMs set. I hear Christmas yell at him for letting me get shot.

"She's not here either!" David says, running out. My heart sinks. Shit. Please don't let her be dead. For David's sake.

"Are you looking for Mia?" a young man asks in a thick accent as he runs by.

"Yes, where is she?" David begs.

"The bald man came and took her. He told me to tell you he'd be in the hangar waiting," he says and runs away. My stomach drops. Thorn starts relaying the information to Christmas, who then informs Barney.

We ran as fast as we could out of the complex and back to the main building. We kept an eye out for green smoke, but didn't see any. When we got to the hangar, Barney was already there with the rest of the team. And Church was in the center, with a young girl in his arms with a gun pointed to her chin.

"Don't fucking move or I'll blow her brains out!" he roars and we halt.

"Church, please," David begs.

"I knew I was fucked. As soon as I figured out that Barney had agency help and that they had aerial. I was going to lure Brenna away and use her as a hostage. But, well, she's just so damn stubborn. And soft. So she managed to find her way back sanity, congratulations. So I went and found Mia. She'll have to do," he pulls out a syringe and I step forward.

"Don't!" I yell. Church grins.

"Recognize this concoction, Brenna? You should. It made you scream every day for months," he brags, and Barney raises his rifle in fury. Church moves Mia in front of him, preventing us from getting a clear shot at him.

"Put your weapons down. All of them," he demands. We refuse, and he pushes the needle into Mia's skin and she winces. "I'll put it all in her system. It's a lethal dose. She'll be dead in thirty seconds, easy. And she'll beg for it to end sooner," he hisses. We drop our weapons. But I still had the pistol from earlier in the butt of my jeans.

"I'm leaving, with Mia, and I want you to call off your aerial."

"Drummer, he's got a civilian. Back off," Barney says into his earpiece. Church nods as he hears the helicopter sounds ease.

"Don't leave with Mia, please. She's fifteen. She's a kid. Please let her go," David pleads, who only looks at his sister helplessly. A tear slides down her pale cheek. She was so thin, but she had a very pretty face.

"I have to start over. Brenna was supposed to be the first successful case of brainwash. But she's too old, too defiant. I need a younger, more susceptible mind," Church backs up slowly toward the door with Mia in his hands. I glare daggers at him.

"You ripped everything from me and it still didn't work. It won't work on her either. Let her go, and just leave," I say calmly, but internally, my heart was racing. I recognize the crazy look in Church's eyes. He's unstable, unpredictable right now. And he points the gun at me.

"I keep telling you. Loyalty gets you nowhere in life. And it's going to get you killed," Church warns eerily. I narrow my eyes.

"Loyalty got me through your bullshit. You tried your worst. You broke me. You cut me open, watched me bleed, and put something else back in. It was my loyalty to those two," I point to David and Mirembe, "that kept me alive. Because they reminded me how to be human."

"Human? Being human is to be weak!" He roars. I smirk and shake my head.

"No. It's made me strong," I simply. Barney looks at me, pride in his eyes.

"You're the only reason I was found. Barney was so damn determined to get you back. Made my life hell. He's the only reason I was thrown in jail in the first place!" Church roars, cocking the gun. Barney moves in front of me.

"You were thrown in jail because you went dark and got greedy! I didn't do a goddamn thing! You tried to have me killed, it was obvious, and you got caught! It's your own fucking fault!" Barney shouts at him. Church narrows his eyes.

"You're right. I don't think I need her after all," he says, and injects the lethal dose into Mia's neck.

Everything then happens so fast. David screams and runs forward as she drops to the ground. As David runs forward, Church pulls his gun around to shoot him.

"No!" I shout, pulling the gun from my waistband, and shooting before he can. The shots go through his chest, and he falls to the ground, finally dead. I lower my gun, and everyone is looking at me. I just killed someone. A cold, dark feeling spreads within me. A feeling that was vaguely familiar from the nights I spent alone. But I couldn't let it in, David needed me. I put the gun down and raced forward to him, Mirembe following.

"Mia? Mia!" he screams, shaking her convulsing body.

"David, I missed you-" she chokes and David shakes his head.

"Ssh, it's okay. I missed you too. I love you, Mia. I'm so sorry," he whispers. Mia's skin turns one shade paler, almost translucent.

"It's okay, Davie. I love you too. I'll be with mom. I'll be happy," she whispers, consumed by pain. Then, her head falls slack. The life in her eyes drains, and I feel my heart shift one shade blacker as David shakes his sister.

"Mia! No, please. I'm so sorry. Come back. Please! No," he screams, horrified. Mirembe cries, throwing her arms around David in comfort. I reach forward and close Mia's eyes, tears welling in my eyes. I wrapped my arms around Mirembe and David, and David kept screaming into Mia's shoulder. I looked up and Barney and the team had surrounded us. They looked on with pity. I met Barney's eyes, and he looks down at me. I could see the concern and worry he had for me in his eyes.


	20. Chapter 20

"Are you sure you want to leave Luanda? I have no idea what American life could bring you-"

"I want to. This place holds nothing for me anymore," Mira says, looking down the runway at sunrise. It was beautiful sight, especially after not seeing one for two months. I can't imagine years. Barney was still loading up the plane, his plane, as I now discovered. He and I had a lot to talk about still.

"You'd have to stay with me until we can get you some kind of visa or something, I have no idea how it works-"

"I can help with that. It shouldn't be too hard, and it's the least I can do for you for shooting that son of a bitch dead," Drummer says behind me. I spin.

"You'd do that for her?" I stammer in disbelief. Mirembe looks at him with wide eyes. Drummer shrugs, nodding.

"Like I said, you took the shot. I owe you-" Mira throws her arms around him, thanking him. He gets red in the face, and starts to talk with her about it. David, on the other hand, is at the other end of the plane looking at the sunset. I walk up behind him.

"I really hoped to watch my first sunrise with her," he whispers, and I can tell his throat is raw from screaming and crying. I take his hand.

"I know. She's still here, though. Somewhere," I look at the rising sun, and the brightness hurts my now sensitive eyes. David looks down at me.

"I never thanked you… you were so brave and calm. You never once hesitated at the opportunity to get the hell out, and take us with you. You somehow managed to wade through all of the shit in your head, get everyone out safely, and save our lives. And you took out the disgusting, horrible-"

"I'm not all that. And I regret shooting him," I mumble. David whirls to me.

"Why?"

"Because he deserved anything but the quick death he got. I wanted him to experience the pain he put us through, only ten times worse," I state. David frowns.

"Do you think we'll ever move on?" he asks.

"I was only there for two months. The real question is, can you?" I ask.

"Stop downplaying this. You experienced the hell I did, and Mirembe. You also saw the same amount of fucked-"

"I really don't want to talk about it," I interrupt him, and he sighs.

"I understand… but I hope you don't just try to brush this under a rug. It's not healthy," he advises. I nod.

"It would have to be a damn huge rug," I mutter, and David laughs bitterly. We're silent a moment longer, and I rest my head on his shoulder. He rests his head on mine and puts an arm around me gently. We stay like this for a while before I hear someone approach us from behind. It's Barney.

"All set. Ready to go home?" he asks, giving a funny look at David's arm around me. I look at David, who only looks sad. I turn to Barney and nod.

"Doc needs to tend your arm, and your leg. You all need looked at, really," Barney says. I looked at my arm, still bleeding badly.

I walk in the plane and Doc has already set up a treatment area. Luna stands, smiling, and gives me a hug.

"Good to see you, Brenna. I missed you," she says gently. I smile and hug her back.

"I missed you too, Luna. How's Reagan?" I ask. She snorts.

"Pain in the ass as ever. Worried like hell. Waiting at home with Tool. They're both anxious like hell to see you," she informs me, and I nod.

"I'm sure they'll be happier to see you when you aren't covered in blood and guts. Get over here and let me look at you," Doc demands, patting the metal bench beside him. I sit down next to him, and he unwraps my arm. He whistles.

"Damn, you got shredded," he hollers. Barney frowns at me, but says nothing as goes to the cockpit. Christmas follows, and soon we're in the air. Doc has started to clean the various wounds I had. Starting with my arm.

"This will need stitches, kid," he says, reaching for the pain medicine. I grab his arm.

"No! No meds," I gulp. I could go an entire lifetime without even seeing a needle enter my skin. Doc frowns.

"Brenna, it'll hurt-"

"Trust me, she can take it. Pain isn't exactly a foreign feeling. Plus… I don't think she wants the needle anywhere near her," Mira says, vouching for me. I give her a thankful smile, and she nods a you're welcome. Doc hesitates, and I give him a reassuring nod. He starts to stitch the wound up without the painkillers, and everyone watches.

Eventually, he's cleaned out my various wounds and stitched the ones he needed to. He stitched my arm, the wound on my leg (which was deep), and two stitches on my temple where my head sustained injuries when Church tortured me. A shudder runs through me as I recall the events that happened in that room.

" _This is what being valiant and loyal gets you, Brenna. These aren't "admirable traits". Just accept the offer!" he roared. I leaned my head back and spat in his face._

" _I'm not a soulless monster like you, so do your worst you son of a bitch!" I swore at him. He grinned._

" _Gladly," he says and stabs my leg, making me scream out in pain. I didn't want to scream, he enjoyed the sound too much. But it relieved the pain slightly to yell out._

God, he was sick. And I wish he was still alive so I could at least do half the things he did to me. Or David. Or Mira.

"You okay, kid? Are you cold?" Toll Road asks.

"Nah, I'm good," I reassure him, smiling. He nods and turns back to his conversation with Caesar. I see David in the back of the plane, hovering over his sister's dead body. Mira is by his side, a hand on his shoulder. I approach them slowly.

"Hey… how're you holding up?" I ask him. He doesn't answer, just closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"You should have Doc take a look at you… just in case," I offer. He shakes his head.

"I'm fine. Mira, you go," he tells her and she nods, heading over to him. I take her place, and weave my hand into his.

"Your family… they're from Pennsylvania, right?" I ask, recalling an old conversation we had. He nods, smiling.

"You remember," he looks at me warmly. I scoff.

"We spent two months in prison together. There wasn't much else to remember," I mutter. David snorts bitterly in agreement.

"Do you want to take her there? To be with your family?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"No. I want her to be cremated. And then I'll release her ashes someplace… perfect. When the time is right. She was in a hole for the last three years… I don't want her in one in the afterlife. Wherever that may be," he says. I smile.

"That sounds beautiful. We'll take care of her as soon as we get back," I reassure him, squeezing his hand. He nods, and removes his hand from mine. Instead, he wraps it around my shoulder.

"You're incredibly kind, Brenna. Far more than I could ever be," he sighs. I put a head on his shoulder.

"I don't know if that's true. You got Mira through her two years. You got me through my two months. You were a rock when we needed you," I tell him. He smiles. "Have you thought about what you're going to do now?" I ask. His smile vanishes.

"Not a clue. I wanted to go to college, but it's too late now. And I don't know how to support myself on a minimum wage job. It's impossible," he sighs. I frown.

"You'll figure something out. I'll help you," I offer. He nods, but doesn't elaborate further.

"Brenna, Barney wants you," Thorn says behind me. I turn around. He's staring at the arm that David has around me, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Okay. I'll be right back," I tell David. He smiles.

"Take all the time you need," and then he turns back to his sister. She was in a body bag, for David's sake. But he'd see her before the cremation ceremony. I walked to the cockpit and peaked in.

"What's up?" I ask, and Barney looks up. He startled by the stitches on my arm and head.

"Damn, you really did get shredded. You alright?" he asks. I shrug.

"As I can be, I suppose," I reply, looking out the windshield at the morning sun from 30,000 feet. It was beautiful, mesmerizing even. I find myself staring at it for a long time. Barney notices.

"Want to take a seat?" he asks, gesturing to the co-pilot seat that was previously occupied by Lee, who was on the phone with his fiancé in the back. Fighting, from the looks of it. "Don't worry about him, that'll be a while," Barney mutters grumpily.

"Don't approve of his lady?" I ask, taking a seat.

"You haven't met her. She's a bit of a handful sometimes. And not very understanding. But I suppose, it's who he wants. None of my business," he shrugs. I frown.

"How come you never decided to meet someone new?" I ask. The question startled him, and he looks awkward.

"Well, I couldn't. Your mom and I split because she was in danger by being with me. Why would I repeat that with anyone else?" he ponders. I frown.

"The right woman would've risked it all, just to be with you. That's what love is," I tell him, swinging my legs over the armrest of the chair.

"She did risk it all. I mostly left it up to her, whether she wanted to stay or not. We got into a fight one night about it, she was insisting that I was making choice for her. Maybe I was, I don't remember. But then… well… you happened. And her state of mind did a full 360. I was no longer the center of her universe, and she was no longer the center of mine. It's odd, how the feelings you have toward the people you love change when a kid is involved," he pats my foot, smiling fondly but keeping his eyes on the horizon. I smile too, but it's a little forced.

"I'm still mad at you, you know. You still lied to me. For months," I accuse. Barney sighs.

"I know. And I'm sorry. More than you know. I won't ask for your forgiveness, because I know it's too much," he stares out the window, but his response stuns me to silence. He really was guilty about this.

"So, what happens now?" I ask, unsure of where we are now.

"It's up to you. You can move out, and I'll help you, or you can stay," he says, and I can tell which one he would prefer.

"I want to stay," I tell him, and I can visibly see him relax. I hear a rattling behind me, and I peer around to see dog tags hanging from the ceiling. I had a feeling what they were for, so I didn't ask. But it reminded me of my next point.

"We have a lot to talk about still, though," I tell him, and he nods.

"I understand that you have questions. Now?" he asks. I shake my head.

"Later. I'd rather talk when I have a clear head. And that's not happening until I wash away the grime and eat some real food," I say. Barney scoffs.

"I hear that. By the way, your birthday is next week," he says. I widen my eyes.

"Jesus. I forgot about that," I say. He gives me a look.

"I'd imagine you probably forgot a lot of things," he says dryly. I shrug.

"Were you really there when I was born?" I ask, because he never told me that before. He nods, smiling only slightly.

"Yes. Incidentally, how are you feeling? Is your head… normal?" he asks, unsure of how to phrase it. I laugh.

"Meaning do I have the urge to kill you still?" I ask, raising a brow in humor. He shrugs sheepishly. "Only because I'm starving," I joke. He chuckles.

"Your mother used to nearly carve my jugular out when she was hungry. It was terrifying," he jokes. I laugh, because I remember. He goes quiet and looks at me. "Seriously though… how are you doing? Not just with that… with everything else?" he asks. I know what he's really asking about and I sigh.

"You mean am I freaking out about shooting and killing the man the tortured me and many others, killing probably hundreds? No, strangely enough," I say sarcastically. He gives me an impatient look.

"Seriously Brenna, it really does come back to mess with you the first time. It doesn't matter how terrible he was-"

"Alright fine. I'm upset about it. But not because I killed him. Because I didn't get to deliver even a fraction of the pain I wanted to. Because he didn't get even a marginal degree of the torture he made others endure. He got an easy way out. And it wasn't fair," I snap, closing my eyes angrily. When I re-open them after calming down, Barney is frowning deeply in worry.

"You should try and get some rest, I think Reagan pretty much planned a party for your arrival," he jokes, but I can tell he's worried about something else.

"Ugh. She has never known how to do things of a minor scale," I grump, getting up with a pout. I hear Barney chuckle behind me. I walk out of the cockpit, and I see David has knelt down beside his sister now, with his eyes shut. I look at Mira who's getting an IV for fluids from Doc. She looks at me and shakes her head, warning me off. I nod, and take a seat next to Thorn. He puts an arm around me gently.

"Everything okay?" he asks. I nod, unsure of what to say.

Everything David lived for in the past three years was ripped from him. Mirembe couldn't even see the place she was raised and born in as home anymore. And I… well I don't even know how I felt. I hadn't had time to think about it. Everything about who I was before I was taken felt so distant. I was such a different person now, or at least it felt like it. I was still me… just someone tougher. Stronger. And most of all, I was definitely wiser. And everyone was worried about how I was handling everything now, but I felt okay. I wasn't sure if that was normal, to feel okay after all of this. But everyone kept reminding me how it wasn't, and how I should feel. But I didn't feel that way. And the more the expected me to feel a certain the way, the more I realize that they were expecting the same Brenna that was taken two months ago.

But she felt so far gone.

When we got home, David and Mirembe took out Mia's body carefully and put her into a casket waiting at the aircraft hangar when we landed.

"Let's get you home," Thorn says with a smile, but I shake my head.

"I need to go with them. We have to take care of her," I say quietly, to avoid sounding insensitive to David. Thorn frowns.

"You should go home and get some rest," he insists. I narrow my eyes.

"David and Mirembe were there for multiple years. I was there for two months. If they can handle it, so can I," I tell him.

"True, but you look worse than they do," Gunnar nudges me, teasing. I give him a faux glare and turn to Barney.

"I'll be back at the garage soon. I just need to be there for this," I tell him. He frowns, disapproving.

"Brenna-"

"They need me," I say, adding a touch of finality to my voice. He sighs, nodding.

"I'll drive you," he offers. I nod, and join David and Mira. He probably knew the best place to go anyway.

When we arrive at the cremation and funeral service, Barney comes in with us.

"Trust me, you'll need me in here," he says when I give him a questionable look. When we walk in, there's a young woman that looks to be about Barney's age behind a reception counter. She had ash-brown hair with small wisps of grey, and warm and welcome brown eyes, with pale and clear skin. She's wearing business formal wear, but it's not too overwhelming. She looks up when we come in, and when she sees Barney her eyes go wide.

"Barney, is everything alright?" she asks, concerned. He shrugs.

"Another day, I suppose. Do you have time for us today?" he asks. She blushes. _Oh god, I know that look._ It was gross to see someone crushing on my dad.

"Uhm, yes of course. Where the angel?" she asks gently, looking around. David looks at her.

"She's out front, in the casket," he mutters unhappily. She looks startled briefly by his appearance, and I can tell he notices. I take his hand again, a gesture that was now common. I hope the scars and his eye don't become a self confidence destroyer. The world was too cruel for someone like him.

"I'll show you," I offer, and walk her out. We reach the back of Barney's truck, covered by a tonneau-cover so the public doesn't see a coffin the back of someone's truck. She calls two men in suits over to take it.

"How do you know Barney?" I ask her while we wait, simply curious. She pauses, unsure of what to say.

"I know about his profession," I tell her, and she relaxes.

"Oh. Well unfortunately, his occupations comes with casualties… in the literal sense. He's been friends with the owner of this funeral home for years, they used to work together I believe. So, whenever Barney comes by, we know what we have to do. It's easier on the boys to take care of everything, you know?" she says kindly, smiling warmly at me. I decided immediately that I liked her, because she seemed gentle and kind. But with her occupation, she kind of had to.

"How do you know Barney?" she asks me, and it comes to my attention that Barney must not come by for social visits very often. I sigh.

"I'm his daughter, Brenna," I introduce myself, and she whirls around.

"I d-didn't know Barney had a daughter," she stammered, probably scared that Barney had a wife. I snort.

"For a while, he didn't. I've only just come back into his life," I tell her. She visibly relaxes, and I can't help but smirk.

"Oh. Well I'm Abigail, but you can call me Abby," she shakes my hand, her grasp firm.

"Nice to meet you, Abby," I tell her, and she eyes my stitches and wounds. "No, my father and I don't work together. But… well the story is complicated," I tell her before she freaks out. She smiles, waving her hand.

"Whatever it is, it's none of my business. Taking care of this girl is. I'll be right back, and when I'm ready for you, I'll meet you in the lobby," she says kindly, touching my shoulder. I nod and head back in, my leg giving me trouble. I limp back to the lobby, where Barney, David, and Mira are all waiting.

"She'll come back when it's time," I tell David gently. He nods, tears welling in his eyes. I look away to avoid crying myself. Barney is eyeing my leg.

"You should sit down, Brenna. You're going to tear your stitches," he warns. I nod and take a seat next to David. He has one hand in Mira's hand, and I take his other one. Barney sits down next to us awkwardly, keeping silent. Abby comes out minutes later, approaching us softly.

"It's time," she murmurs. David and Mira follow her back, but I look at Barney.

"I… I would stay here. David probably doesn't want too many people around," I say gently. Barney gives me a nod in agreement and sits back down.

When I enter the sterile cremation room, Mia is on the metal table. They've fixed her up and make her look lively again. They've wove flowers between her hands and short brown hair, and gave her a beautiful white dress to be in. She looks beautiful and it's a joy to see. David looks appreciate, and he looks at Abby.

"Thank you," he chokes. She nods, and starts to leave the room. She stops by my shoulder.

"When you're ready, give a thumbs up to that window," she nods toward a small window by the door.

"Okay. We'll need a minute," I tell her in hushed tones.

"Take all the time you need," she pats my shoulder and joins Barney back out in reception. I reach David's side, reclaiming his hand.

"She looks beautiful. God, she would've been a heartbreaker," David sobs, trying to make a joke. I smile at him.

"She looks like her big brother. She's at peace, now more than she had been," I comfort him, and he nods.

"She would've loved you guys," he whispers, and Mira rests her head on his shoulder. It's silent for a long time, it almost feels like an hour. He's put his hand on hers, whispering to her so quietly that we can't hear. I'm starting to question if he'll ever be ready. Tears have streamed down his face the entire time, and finally he takes a sharp breath in.

"Okay. I'm ready," he breathes, trying to formulate words over his tears. I nod and turn to the window, giving a thumbs up. The table mechanically rises, and a crematorium door opens. Fire burns brightly inside as the table she's on slides in. We can't see her inside the chamber, which is good, but I still don't feel like David should see this.

"Come on, you shouldn't watch this," I tell him, but he shakes his head.

"Will you sing something again? She loved to hear people sing," he cries, and my heart constricts. Of course I can't say no.

"Of course," I whisper, trying to keep from crying. Mira takes his hand once more as I take the other. I inhale deeply, and begin to sing.

 _Just close your eyes and you will see  
All the memories that you have of me  
Just sit and relax and you will find  
I'm really still there inside your mind_

 _Don't cry for me now I'm gone  
For I am in the land of song  
There is no pain, there is no fear  
So dry away that silent tear _

_Don't think of me in the dark and cold  
For here I am, no longer old  
I'm in that place that's filled with love  
Known to you all, as "up above"_

 _(A Silent Tear, Unknown/Anonymous)_


	21. Chapter 21

_**Hello again! Just some information for you: if there are any weird word misplacements or mispellings, it's because I write the majority of this on my cell phone and it autocorrects things all the time. I usually ready through and edit things but I don't always grab things. Anyway, I went through all of the last twenty chapters today and edits/fixed a couple errors and geographical errors as well. I don't write on my laptop usually because I don't always have it with me when I'm ready to write. Enjoy!**_

When I'm finished singing, David's tears have eased slightly. I hear a presence behind me and whirl around, panicked. It's just Barney.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were-"

"We are," David says, finally talking.

"Okay, well, if you wait out front, they'll bring her to you," Barney offers. He nods and leaves the room quietly. Mira hesitates, and follows. Barney approaches me, with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

"I had no idea you sang," he comments, putting an arm around my shoulder as we walk out.

"I did a lot of it for those two. Lullabies work even for adults," I sigh.

"You're a good friend to them," he tells me.

"We're more family now… I'm all they have left. And for a while, they were all I had too. I came out better after this whole mess…" I trail off, feeling guilty. He stops me.

"Guilt and shame are wasted emotions. Never let anything else tell you differently," he says.

After David got Mia, Mirembe pulls me aside.

"That man… Drummer, I believe. He is meeting me here, and then he's helping me get on my feet. I don't think David is any mood to go to a welcome home party. And I think maybe Drummer can help him too-"

"I understand, go ahead. Do what you guys need to," I smile at her. She hesitates.

"It may be a couple days, or longer. I'm not sure what's going to happen," she shakes slightly, and I know why. The unknown is something to fear now. And I had a feeling it was going to be a lot longer than a couple days before she could come back. I put a hand on her shoulder.

"It'll be okay. Just get back in contact with me as soon as you can. And… take care of David," I say quieter so he doesn't hear me. She pulls me into a tight hug.

"Thank you, for everything, Brenna. I mean it," she hisses quietly, her throat choking with tears. I have to swallow loudly to keep from doing the same. David approaches.

"Goodbye for now?" I tell him, and he frowns deeper.

"I don't think I can handle any more goodbyes today. So, I'll see you… soon," he says. I nod, and he pulls me into a tight hug.

"I love you, Bren. I'll contact you when I can," he murmurs into my hair. I realize when he says this, that he was going off on his own for a while. He wanted to let the pain go on his own. I tighten my arms around him briefly, and then release him. I didn't realize how uncomfortable I was with being away from them. It had been two months, we spent every waking moment together. Through blood, sweat, and tears. They were like family.

"I love you guys too. Write, call, or even shout if you need me. I'll be there," I tell them, climbing into Barney's truck. They smile sadly, nodding. Tears pool in my eyes as Barney starts the truck. I felt my heart beginning to race, almost like a panic attack coming on, as we started to drive away slowly. I looked out the window waving as we drove off, and when I could no longer see them, I felt the tears in my eyes overflow and spill down my face. Barney doesn't say a word, but takes my hand.

"Ugh. I handled physical torture without having a mental breakdown. A funeral is what gets me," I joke weakly, wiping my eyes. Barney frowns.

"It takes more guts to let yourself feel the things that hurt the most. And what you've experienced was heartbreaking. I'm surprised you aren't worse," he mutters in a worried tone. Honestly, so was I.

"He… they deserve so much more than what they got, Barney. So much more," I hush, as tears continue to fall. He squeezes my hand. "God, why does this hurt so much?"

"You love him," he says simply. I frown.

"I love them," I correct. He sighs.

"True. But… you _love_ David. Deep down," he says quietly. His assumption stuns me to silence. I didn't love David, not like that anyway.

"We went through something traumatic together. It brings people closer, quicker. But I don't love David. Not like that anyway," I tell Barney. He still looks unconvinced.

"You can't see it because you love Thorn more," he adds.

"Who says I love Thorn either?" I ask, bewildered by his blunt accusations. He gives me a look.

"In your darkest moments, the moments you felt the most alone and your lowest, who did you think about? Even though all of those twisted things were in your head about me and about us, who did you think about?" he asks. I recall the nights spent awake when David and Mira would eventually drift to sleep. I shudder.

"You. Thorn, Reagan," I admit. He shrugs simply.

"The people you love. No amount of attempted brainwashing can get rid of that," he says quietly, and he sound like he knows. I look at him.

"Even when I hated you the most, even when I was convinced you never wanted a damn thing to do with me, I still had this feeling… that somewhere, you were looking for me. I sat up every night, even though I hated everyone. I questioned if anyone ever thought of me," I mumble, mainly to myself. He nods.

"Every second," he whispers softly.

When I got back to Tool's garage, Barney parked out front. He started to get out of the truck but stopped when he noticed I wasn't moving.

"You ok?" he asks. I shake my head.

"Is it weird that I might be having a panic attack?" I breathe. Barney gets out and races around to the passenger side door. He opens it and the cool air against my face feels good.

"What for?"

"I don't know. Being back here. Leaving the people I sweat, bled, and cried with for the last two months. All of it is kind of crashing down right now," I try to breathe in, but I feel the familiar asthmatic clenching on my windpipe. I take a deep breath as much as I can, holding it in until I can let it out. But when Barney wraps his arms around me, crushing me to him, my breathing starts to mellow out. The panic starts to fade away, and eventually, I'm able to calm back down.

"Better?" he asks, pulling back. I nod, taking a deep breath in.

"Much. Thank you," I climb down from the truck, pausing at the door to the garage.

"Ready?" he asks. I shrug.

"Let's go," I sigh, pushing open the door.

A flurry of blonde hair rushes me as soon as I enter the door. Her arms wrap around me tightly, and I hiss.

"Reagan, I love you, but my stitches-"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know…" she trails off when she finally looks up and sees my face. She takes a step back and looks at me, a hand flying to her mouth in horror. I sigh.

"I know. I look like death. I'm fine though, come here," I open my arms again and she walks into them crying.

"Two months. I thought you were gone. You're my only family left," she cries quietly in my ear. I rub her back soothingly. When I look behind her, Tool is waiting his turn. I pull out of her arms and I'm instantly met with his.

"How're you feeling, darlin'?" he asks, and his familiar friendly and funny nature nearly pushes me over the edge again. I give him my best, fake smile.

"Starving," I tell him, and some people on the team laugh. But Tool sees through my distraction and eyes me warily. Thankfully, he doesn't comment.

Throughout the evening, I get reacquainted with the daily sights I saw before on a Friday night. Everyone drinking, laughing, knives being thrown at targets, crappy junk food, video games, and card games. I sat back in silence, though I used to get involved in some way, just drinking in the general happiness of the room. And even though I was surrounded by the people I had come to adore, the people that were happy to see me, I've never felt more alone in my life. And it made me feel incredibly selfish.

 _Thorn's POV_

She sat by herself the majority of the night, looking blue. But she didn't seem to be in shock, nor did she seem freaked out by what had happened to her. I can understand why killing Church hasn't bothered her yet. He was a terrible man, and he needed to be taken out. The world was safer without him. I was happy that if she had to shoot anyone, it was him.

But there was something else bothering her, something deeper. Maybe it was the torture, the drugs, her physical pain. But whatever was on her mind right now was beyond that. I walked over to Barney, because I know asking her to talk about it won't get me anywhere.

"Barney… has she said anything to you..?" I ask, gesturing slightly to her. Barney looks over at his daughter, who's sitting at the kitchen bar counter staring off into space. He frowns.

"It's complicated, Thorn," he sighs, obviously wanting to avoid the subject. I huff, annoyed.

"Uncomplicate it. I'm worried," I hiss under my breath. Barney gives me his famous glare.

"Then go talk to her," he gestures to her. I sigh, walking over to her. She sees me coming and gives me a small, but fake, smile.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?" I put my arms on either side of her, on the counter, trapping her. Then she gives me an actual grin. It surprises me.

"Fella done me wrong," she says, in her best vintage voice. I give her a coy look.

"Maybe you've got a bad taste in men," I murmur, returning her flirt. A small, subtle twinkle sparks in her eyes when she looks up at me. Her green eyes turn sultry, and full of sensual promise. I'm not expecting the sudden change in her demeanor, and it throws me off balance.

"He's not so bad, he just takes his time," she replies in a low voice. Her lips move proactively around the words, it's distracting. I smirk.

"So what's he done to you?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. She gives me a crooked grin, and shrugs.

"Not a damn thing…" she leans in, putting her lips close to my ear, "And that's the problem," she murmurs. I gulp loudly, understanding now where she was going with this. The tension between us is palpable, and I find myself leaning in toward her.

"Not around me!" Barney yells across the garage, giving me a look. It breaks our spell and turns her face red, but she's still smiling. Which was my goal. I sit on the bar stool next to her, and she gives me a wink. I shift in my seat uncomfortably, hoping that it wasn't obvious what she was doing to me. She spies Reagan sitting on Smilee's lap, laughing with him, and smiles.

"I'm guessing that worked out?" she asks me. I shrug.

"I guess. I didn't pay much attention honestly," I tell her. She frowns.

"What did you do while I was gone then?" she turns to me, and I look at her like she's stupid.

"Sat my ass behind a computer screen 24/7, looking for you," I grumble, not wanting to discuss it. She takes my hand, smiling.

"Thank you," she tells me, and I can tell she means it. I pull her off her chair and into a hug. Having her in my arms again was unreal, it felt like a dream. And several times, it was just that, a dream. Or a nightmare. But feeling the warmth of her body against mine again, her arms wrapped around my waist, it was perfect.

"Now, are you actually going to tell me what's bothering you?" I ask her. She sighs.

"It was that obvious?" she frowns.

"Really obvious."

"I feel naked," she mutters. I try not to smirk, and I try not to crack a joke, but I can't help it.

"Well, I wish you were," I tell her, and she swats at me.

"Behave, or my dad will have words," she warns, giving me the Ross glare. I grin at her wolfishly.

"I mean, I feel naked because the people that I… Well… they got me through so much," she chokes quietly, and I can tell she's quite upset. I stroke her hair gently, avoiding the head wound.

"I know. But they need their space to get reacquainted with all of this. They haven't had freedom in years. It's only been two months for you. And I'm not saying it's different, but Mirembe just left her home behind and Davis lost his sister-"

"David," she corrects, and I frown.

"Yes. Anyway, you have this to come back to. It's not the same, and they probably need some time to get settled into a new place," I tell her, and she sighs.

"I know that. It's just… painful. Worse than any physical pain I've felt," I see a tear glisten on her cheek, and my frown deepens. She cares for these people an awful lot, and I can tell that she even loves them. Maybe a little too much for her own good.

 _Brenna's POV_

"Ok, I'm going to attempt a shower," I say, getting up from the couch. Almost everyone had gone home, except for Doc, Thorn, Reagan, and Christmas.

"I don't trust you to not pull your stitches," Doc warns me. Reagan jumps up beside me.

"I'll do it. I've been dying to all night, you look like shit," she throws an arm around me as best she can, considering I tower over her. I glare down at her.

"You know, I've been shot. I'm a badass now, and I will hurt you," I warn her teasingly. She scoffs, and I can tell Barney was made uncomfortable by the statement. He didn't like talking about my injuries, I think he still blames himself. I was still mad, but I didn't blame him.

"Better you than me," she shrugs, and nudges me. I roll my eyes and laugh. Lord I missed this girl.

"I missed you, Rey," I sigh, letting her lead me upstairs.

"I missed you too, you fucking lunatic," she adds dryly. I hear Christmas laugh behind us.

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it Barney?" he asks, and Barney just puts his head in his hand.

After I got out of the shower, with Reagan's help, I felt worlds better except for my hair. It was matted and disgusting from lack of care in the last two months.

"I'm amazed you don't have lice. I don't even know what to do with this, Brenna," she grumps, trying to brush it. I shrug.

"Cut it off then," I tell her, and she freezes.

"Are you sure?"

"Just don't give me a hack job or make me look like a mom," I glare at her. But she's still staring at me in the mirror like I'm a monster.

"But you love your long hair," she chokes in surprise. I sigh, shrugging.

"A lot of things change for a lot of different reasons. At least this is easy to explain. My hair is gross, it'll grow back, just cut it out," I shrug simply. I think my nonchalance throws her off a moment more, but then she gets to work with cutting my hair the best she can. And when she's done, she steps back to admire her handy work. She grins.

"You look hot," she folds her arms proudly. I throw my head back and laugh. When I stand from the chair she placed me in and then toward the mirror, I freeze.

My hair was cut just above my collar bone, and it was layered in feathery wisps all around my head. She did a really great job. It finally looked decent, and before I would have hated the short hair. But now everything was so different and I needed the change. And this suited me better. Plus I looked like a bit of a badass. With the stitches on my temple and arm, and my tattoo fresh and clean.

"Reagan, I love this. Seriously," I turn around and hug her briefly, and she pulls down her sleeves quickly. I pull back and narrow my eyes.

"What are you hiding?" I demand. She sighs.

"I didn't want you to get mad and I didn't want you to think I was copying you-"

"What is it?" I pull up her sleeve and see my tattoo. With a twist of Reagan to it, with flowers and pink hearts on the skull. I look up at her, confused.

"I got sentimental and kind of tipsy while you were gone… and well… Tool did it," she admits. I just look at her, grinning.

"This is perfect. Now we really are sisters," I pull my sleeve, matching her wrist to mine. My tattoo was more of my personality, with less of a romantic feel than hers. But I still loved it. And now that I was back, I wanted to get a full arm sleeve. I'd talk to Tool about it later.

I change into a black tank top and dark grey jeans. I slide on my black boots and tie a grey hoodie around my waist just in case. Reagan frowns.

"Are you going to go all goth now?" she complains. I scoff.

"I wasn't before?" I ask, and she laughs. She picks up my dirty clothes, and something metal and small hits the floor. _Huh, that's weird._

"What's this?" Reagan asks, holding up a ring with a note shoved in it. I recognize the opal stone and vintage band, and my heart constricts. I snatch it from her and read the note.

 _Brenna,_

 _I'm sorry you have to read these words on paper instead of hearing them in person. If I was even half the person you were, I'd have the courage to just say them. But I'm not, and I'm truly sorry for that._

 _I think you know, or at least have a feeling, that it may be a while before I come back. And I know you'll feel alone. Mirembe will be back sooner, but until she does, take care of yourself. For me. You may feel alone, but never, ever believe that. The people that care about you will always listen to you. Just learn to open up to them again. It'll be hard, especially at first. But you're strong, so strong._

 _And though I can't say specifically why I'm leaving, please know that it's not your fault. I just need to work through some things in my head. I'm sure you understand._

 _I'm giving you my mother's ring for safe keeping- I'll be back for it someday. Think of it as an insurance policy, for a promise. I promise I'll come back, and I promise you'll get through this._

 _Lastly, I want you to know that I love you. More than you know. Please understand why I'm leaving, and please forgive me. I'll see you soon._

 _David_

 _P.S_

 _Try not to kill anyone in the meantime, ok?_

Tears strike the page before I even realize I'm crying. Reagan frowns.

"What is it?" she reaches for the page, but I pull it away.

"It was just a goodbye letter. That's all. And I'm kind of sick of saying goodbyes," I tell her, smiling. She pulls me into a hug, and I know my distraction method worked.

"You won't have to anymore. I'll let you cool down and meet you downstairs," she grasps my arm firmly, and then walks out.

As soon as the door shuts, I collapse onto my bed. I re-read the note over and over, trying to find any double meanings or any hints. But there's nothing, just a chilling finality. The ring is still in my hand, and I put it on my middle finger since it's too big for my ring finger. It's pretty, the opal catches the light and reflects different greens and reds. I look back to the note.

 _I want you to know that I love you. More than you know._

Half of me wanted to believe that he meant that as a family or sisterly love. But, the other half that spent two months with someone who looked out for me, took care of me, and made me laugh when things got dark, said that he meant it the other way. I shook my head. I couldn't love him back, there was no way. I loved Thorn. I hadn't admitted to him yet, because I wasn't sure if there was a good time yet. But I loved him. I couldn't love David too. My heart twists upon even thinking his name, and not seeing him for a long time. A fresh bout of tears wells in my eyes as my heart and my head reach their final conclusion.

Barney was right. I did love David, but it was my fault Mia was killed. Barney came to rescue _me._ Church was after _me._ Mia could have been left out of this if I wasn't a bad luck charm to anyone around.

I swallow my sadness, dry my eyes, and take a moment to let the swollen lids go down. Then I head back downstairs. I couldn't let all the pain I felt rule my head. There was so much to feel so much to wade through. I understand why David needs to be alone. Because that's how I feel right now. But I know if I were to isolate myself, Barney and everyone else would just push at me harder. So for now, I had to pretend to be interactive and light. Until it was time to get pitch black.

When I walk downstairs, Tool looks up and whistles at me, fanning himself with his shirt.

"Damn honey," he hollers, being a goof. I roll my eyes. Barney, Doc, Christmas, and Thorn look up from their card game and stare for a moment. Reagan grins at me from her spot on the couch.

"Told you you looked hot," she gloats, putting her hands behind her head. I plop beside her on the couch, resting my leg that was aching. I rub the other areas of my body that are sore, closing my eyes and trying to ignore the nagging headache I had.

"I could give you painkillers, you know. They're pills. Not needles," Doc offers. A cold chill runs across my skin at the thought of anything drug-related being out in my body.

"No. I'm fine," I immediately say, closing the topic down before it starts. He opens his mouth, but hesitates. Then he gets up and walks over, sitting down next to Reagan and I.

"You know, for eight years… I endured the same thing. Not every single day like you. But I was a lab rat too. To this day, I still can't handle drugs," he tells me in a voice so low that only I can hear.

"I had no idea you'd ever been…" I trail off, and turn to Barney with a glare. "Never mind, I guess I wouldn't have known," I say a little louder and he looks up. He grimaces.

"Sorry, kid," he mumbles an apology, and looks back down at his hand.

"What else don't I know?" I ask.

"You mean asides from the fact that your dad kills people for a living, your beau does the same, and you've been living around a bunch of sociopathic mercenaries for like three months? Don't think so," Reagan says, and then freezes. I glare at her, a real one.

"You knew?!" I shout, making my head throb. Barney stands suddenly, ready to break up a fight if he needs to.

"Easy, Brenna," he says gently. I stand as well, distancing myself from Doc and Reagan on the couch. I turn my back to them, crossing my arms and trying to calm down. My best friend. She knew the whole time. Didn't say a goddamn word. She's supposed to be the person I know better than anyone, and I still didn't see she was keeping something. There were a few notable moments where she acted weird, but I always chalked it up to her and Smilee having problems. And I don't know what was holding it back before, but I finally snap. All the anger, betrayal, stress, and hard break surfaces and instead of breaking down like I thought I would, I just get angry.

"I didn't even detect you were lying. I didn't even see… and of all people, I should've been able to tell you were lying. I knew the whole time what Barney was up to. I didn't care. But come to find out he knew why my mother died for _months,_ and didn't say _a goddamn word?!_ How the _fuck_ am I supposed to _trust anyone_ in my fucking life if you keep giving my reasons to constantly second guess myself? How am I supposed to learn to trust people, how am I supposed to trust _myself_ if I can't even see when the people I love most are lying to me? What kind of relationship do I have with you people if I can't even see these things? Am I just fucking stupid?!" I roar, whirling around. Reagan blanches, remaining quiet. Everyone has been stunned to silence by my vehement anger. Barney approaches me slowly.

"Brenna, you're gonna give yourself an aneurism. Calm down-"

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down! I was kidnapped, starved, injected with god only fucking knows what, cut open, stabbed, bled, shot, and tortured. I watched the most important person that got me through the last two months lose his only will to live, and somehow keep breathing. I watched the dead bodies pile up in the lab every goddamn day! I watched my own two hands put four bullets in a revolting man's chest, and you know what bothers me most about that? The fact that it doesn't! The fact that I'm perfectly fine with that part of all of this fucked up shit! It doesn't bother me one damn bit and you want to know what else? I'm glad I took the shot, it was extremely satisfying-"

"Brenna, stop," he steps forward again and I step back instinctively. I can see the panic in his eyes, and the worry. He's been expecting this breakdown for a while. But I continue anyway.

"No, listen. The only relief I have felt within the last two months is the sound his body made when it hit the concrete. And I wanted more. I wanted to hear the screams he would scream, I wanted to hear the pleas he would plead when I got even with him. _That_ is what bothers me. Because I am perfectly okay with those thoughts. And that's not _fucking_ normal! And I'm expected to calm down? How do people like me just live day to day being okay with thinking like a sociopath? How do I learn to deal with this? How… how am I expected to breathe?" I choke, nearly in tears by the time I'm done screaming my head off. But they were tears of anger. Everyone stares at me, not saying a word. Barney looks mortified, and I know he's probably disappointed with how I'm handling this. He's probably used to the feeling, and thinks it's normal and okay for him. In fact, everyone in my life except Reagan thinks this was normal. And I couldn't talk to Reagan, especially about this. She wouldn't understand and I felt totally alone. I tried to push through it, ignore it, go back to normal. But I tried it for less than a day, and I've already blown a gasket. I missed Mira and David, Mia would still be alive if it weren't for my presence, and everything was on my shoulders and I couldn't take it anymore. I launch myself in the direction of my room, but Barney grabs my forearm.

"Brenna, I understand that you're angry. But revenge isn't how you fix this," he says, giving me a vacant stare with his black eyes. Briefly, I recognized the same black heart that beat within my own chest. My jaw clenches as I realize how similar we are now. I yank my arm from his iron grasp.

"What's the point? The person that deserved is already dead," I meet his eyes, and he looks shocked by what he sees. I think he finally sees the depth of hatred that burns in my soul. He steps back.

"That's a dark path you're headed down, kid," Tool says from behind me. I stare at the ground for a moment, then turn to face him slowly. His black eyes show me the same thing I saw in Barney's. I shake my head slightly.

"You want to save me?" I ask him, turning back to Barney with the same inquiry. He narrows his eyes slightly, not understanding where I'm going with this. He nods slightly, and Tool repeats the same motion. Liars. I stalk off toward the stairs, but pause at the bottom, turning slightly back toward them.

"Too late," I mutter, and walk upstairs.


	22. Chapter 22

_Barney's POV_

When I hear the door slam to her room, I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. I was expecting a mental breakdown. We all were. I was expecting her to be mad at me, to be mad at everyone, to cry, to yell, and anything in between. But what she did was much, much worse. She wasn't sad. She wasn't upset. She wasn't even _that_ mad at me. She was mad at herself, blaming herself, and most of all, letting her rage control her. But that could all be dealt with, managed, and she'd learn to move on. It was her fear toward her own violent thoughts that bothered her, and myself. She was _okay_ with thinking like a murderer. Honestly, the woman was more evolved than I give her credit for. She's not bothered by the act of killing, she's not bothered by the thoughts that drift into her head of similar taste, no. What bothers her is the fact that none of this bothers her at all, when to a normal person, it should.

I always had a feeling we were too similar. This side of her, no matter how dormant it was, was always there. Unfortunately, she also had too much of Sabrina in her. My dark soul doesn't match Sabrina's kind heart. And Brenna had both.

I wanted to go after her, to reason with her, make her understand that being angry wasn't a good route. But Tool stops me.

"Let her be alone, brother. That was her low point. She just needs to be able to be alone and sort through her feelings. All night I've been watching her. I know you have to. She puts on a good show about being happy to be here and with everyone again, but she feels totally alone and as awful as it may sound… she needs to be alone," he advises.

"Maybe if everyone here didn't baby her and treat her like a goddamn pet project," Reagan rudely mutters under her breath. Smilee gives her a look and she glares at him. "Don't look at me like that, you know it's true. She's a grown goddamn woman and even after all this bullshit, you fail to see that she isn't broken. She's hurt. Not shattered. She's still standing tall, and she's just trying to figure out the best way to deal with all of this without hurting anyone's feelings. I.e, yes, she needs to be alone but she's too goddamn nice to say it. She hasn't changed a bit, she's just tougher and stronger than she was. I don't get how you can't see all of this. She's no delicate rose. She's a goddamn raven," Reagan stands, defending her friend, and heads to the guest room upstairs. Smilee sighs.

"I'm sorry Barney, she's just worked up. She means well," he grunts, but I shake my head.

"She's right. All of it. And she should be, she's been around her since they were kids," I mumble, taking a seat again. Brenna was my daughter but Reagan knew her better than anyone, and I have been failing to see that until now. The two were inseparable, sisters it almost seemed. And now something bigger has arose and their friendship is on the line, so naturally Reagan is a little freaked out. I didn't blame her for her outburst at all.

"So, you think you're just worrying too much? You think she'll be fine with enough space?" Thorn asks, looking toward the stairs reluctantly. He wanted to go after her too. I frown.

"Yes. Yes I do," I affirm, picking up my hand of cards from the table.

"How do you know?" he asks. I shake my head.

"Because I do. I know the feelings she's having, so does Doc. And Christmas. I've just been thinking of her like… well… in Reagan's words, like a rose," I tell him, to reassure him. He nods, but then frowns.

"She's not just one or the other. She's both the raven and the rose. That's why you're concerned," Tool gives me a knowing look. He knows that my main concern is that the personality traits she carries from Sabrina are too conflicting with the ones she carries from me. And I'm worried it will ruin her. I sigh.

"It's not about what I'm concerned about anymore. It's about her now, and what she needs to do for herself."

 _Brenna's POV_

I felt bad for making such a scene downstairs, but at the same time, it felt good to get it all off my chest. I felt much better afterwards, which only made me feel more like shit for having an outburst. I hear a door down the hall slam, and I know it's the guest room and it's probably Reagan. I sigh, sliding onto the floor against my bedroom door. I am an asshole.

I looked around my room, realizing how eerie it felt to be back in here. It felt weird having a bed again too. But there was only one place I wanted to be right now.

I headed to my window, and opened the panel, and stepped onto the fire escape. The cool, crisp, familiar New Orleans winter was refreshing. And when I was finished climbing the fire escape, I hesitated. The view was familiar, I'd seen it every day for months. And I've lived here my whole life. But for whatever reason, it didn't feel like home anymore.

"You're not planning on jumping, are you?" I familiar voice says behind me. I jump, and whirl around. David.

"What… what are you doing here?" I ask, breathless and confused. Because I was very, very confused.

"I know I said goodbye, and I said it again in the letter, but… something still didn't feel right. I still had something to say," he sighs. I stay silent, because I'm still confused.

"Okay… well what is it?" I ask, and he laughs bitterly.

"I'm not entirely sure. I like the ring on you, it looks nice," he gestures to my hand. I frown.

"That's what you had to say? I thought you were headed off with Mirembe to get on your feet?" I question. He sighs.

"This is the part where I'm supposed to give you some kind of explanation. The reason I'm leaving, the reason I came back, the reason I can't seem to say the words I need to say," he sighs, looking frustrated. He looked better though, I could tell he had showered and he'd been able to get new clothes. He almost looked okay. Except he looked at me with a tortured expression. He was conflicted about something.

"Are you staying?" I ask, hopeful. He hesitates, and I have my answer. My face falls, and he walks over to me with guilt on his face.

"Don't frown like that, it'll make you out to be an ugly old woman someday," he jokes weakly, pushing the corner of my mouth up with his thumb. I pull my head away slightly, because I'm not sure what he's meaning.

"If you're not staying, why are you here? Why are you making this feel worse?" I accuse, because his presence here only renewed the ache that clutches my heart. Especially knowing he was going to just leave again. He closes his eyes briefly, regret sweeping across his face.

"I can't explain my reason for needing some distance. I can tell you that part of it is because I need to just be alone for a while… but you already know that-"

"Yes, I do. So tell me the other reason, so we can talk this out," I demand. He shakes his head.

"I can't. But… I came back because I just… I don't know. I didn't like our goodbye," he says quietly. My heart thuds in my chest, because I know where he's going with this.

"Why?" I say under my breath, but he gives me a look.

"You know why," he steps forward again, this time taking my hand. He puts his other hand on the side of my face, and he looks at my hair. "I like the new-do."

"David… I'm with Thorn-"

"I know. Trust me, he's very obviously staked his claim on you. And I know you love him very much. But… you also love me. And I know this is unfair to you, to put you in this position, but what I've come to realize is that I'm selfish. But I can pull it together, I can walk away from you and let you be with him in peace. But only because I know he's better for you, and it hurts like absolute hell, but I can do this because I love you. Because I know how selfish it is to stay here, to force you to make the decision, and-"

"Is that why you're leaving? Because you think I'd have to make a choice?"

"No. I've told you. I have my reasons. This isn't one of them. But I guess… it kind of is. Because you've already made your choice, and I can't stay and watch you with someone else," he puts both his hands on either side of my face now, gently. And the dam that welled the emotions I have for him breaks easily. The denial I've had dissolves in a second and all the guilt I feel for loving him, and all the heartache surfaces. Tears flood my vision. I shake my head, shoving him away.

"This isn't fair. You can't come here, saying all of these things, telling me it's you and that you're selfish when I'm obviously the one causing you so much pain!" I cry, tears leaking down my face now. David shakes his head, stepping toward me once more.

"Brenna, no, don't blame yourself. Please-"

"And that's why you can't stay! Because if it weren't for me, if it weren't for Barney and the team, Mia would still be alive. And you can't stay because you _hate_ them for it and you don't want to hurt me by resenting them so much. You're not selfish, David. You're right. It is my fault, and I'm so sorry-"

My sobbing soon consumes my voice and David throws his arms around me tightly. He soothes me by rubbing my back and smoothing my hair.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you by telling you. I just need some time to come to terms with all of this. But I don't blame you, Brenna, not in the slightest. Because the same people that I can't help but blame are the same people that saved my life. My head is just one giant, fucked up place of rage and confusion and I can't handle that right now. I can't handle loving you and hating the people you love. It's not fair to you," he whispers into my hair. I nod, understanding.

"Where will you go?" I ask him, my throat raw now. I pull back, looking at him. He wipes away my tears gently.

"Probably do a good bit of traveling. I've been locked up for so long. And I need to find a place that Mia would love. Someplace where I just feel she… belongs, you know?" he explains, and I nod with a forced smile. He frowns. "You don't have to be strong about all of this. Everything from the moment your mom died. It's been fucked up. You don't have to act like it's not bothering you," he says while brushing away another tear. I nod.

"I know that now. And I think I'll be okay… eventually. Will you?" I ask. He smiles, a genuine one.

"Now that you can finally say you're not okay, I feel better. I was worried you'd shut down, become someone else," he sighs.

"I think I am someone else… but I don't think it's a bad thing. I just think I had to come to terms with it," I tell him, and for the first time, I feel a change. I have hope for myself, and I can't wait to start a new day. David smiles.

"Always have hope, Brenna. And never live with rage. It'll destroy you. And I couldn't bare to leave knowing that may happen to you," he sighs. I nod, and we grow silent. My heartache begins again because I know he's about to leave. But we stay silent and I stay in his arms.

"I… I need to go. Before this gets any harder," he chokes, and I can tell he's nearly in tears himself. I nod, pulling out of his arms.

"Be safe… and, come back," I whisper hoarsely, because I'm still unsure of whether he'll make good on his promise to come back for his mother's ring. And as if reading my mind, he takes my hand with the ring on it, and brushes his thumb over the opal.

"I meant it when I said I'll be back for this. And you," he says, with a touch of finality to his voice, which makes me think he wants to actually fight to be with me. I'm about to question why he says it like this, but he starts to walk away. Unease and panic grip me like no other, and I didn't want to watch him walk away again. And before I can stop myself, the words come tumbling out.

"I love you," I say, my voice broken and defeated, and consumed by guilt. David stops in his tracks, and pauses. He turns slightly to me, and then briskly walks back over to me, captures my face in his hands, and presses his lips to mine passionately. I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him back. It was so, _so_ wrong, and I hated myself every second I kissed him back. He kissed me with so much passion, and need, that it took me by surprise. I can tell through his kiss that he really didn't want to leave.

He pulls back, resting his forehead on mine. Our eyes are still shut, because when we open them, it'll only be harder to watch him go.

"Keep your eyes shut. It'll hurt less," he whispers hoarsely, detecting my thoughts. I nod, but tears continue down my face. He presses his lips softly to mine again, and then I feel him take a step back.

"I love you, too."

I wait what feels like forever to open my eyes, because I know he's gone. But I don't want to open them because if I do, then I have to acknowledge his absence and I don't want to. I don't think I could handle it. But, despite what I want, I open my eyes. I'm all alone on the dark rooftop. I rush to the side of the building, to see if I could see him just once. But he was gone. My hand goes to my mouth as I cry, both due to the guilt of kissing him and because he was gone. And I know, more than anything right now, I wanted to be with Reagan. To tell her everything. To apologize for yelling at her, and to let her in. Without David, I wouldn't have been able to realize how much I needed her.

I quickly descend the fire escape, get to my room, fling open the door, and rush to the guest room. Hesitantly, I knock. Reagan opens the door, first surprised to see me and then surprised to see the upset state I was in.

"Brenna?" she asks, confused. I can't make the words, instead, I just throw myself into her arms. But she must've been expecting this, or hoping I would show up, because she hugs me back with the same amount of love.

"I'm so sorry, Reagan. I didn't mean to yell at you-"

"Sh, it's okay. I shouldn't have been lying to you. I'm sorry, Brenna. I love you like a sister, god, I was so, so scared," she cries into my shoulder.

When we've eventually calmed down and talked it all out, she asks why I came to her so upset. I took a deep breath, and told her everything. From the moment I was taken by Church to the second David left the roof. And she just stares at me.

"I'm a terrible person. I shouldn't have kissed him. Or even worse, told him I loved him. Before I told Thorn," I sigh, kneading my forehead. Reagan shakes her head.

"No, you're not a bad person. You went through something awful with two other people and you love them because they got you through it. But you love David because he kept you intact. I understand. And as far as Thorn is concerned? He knows that you love David. Everyone does. But you need to tell him what happened, Bren," she says gently. We were sitting in the floor of the guest room hanging out, and finally talking.

"I know. And I need to do it now, before I can't convince myself to," I stand to my feet, thank her for listening, and she gives me a hug. With butterflies in my stomach, I head to my room to make sure my eyes aren't puffy. But when I get there, Thorn is inside holding the note from David. I stop in my tracks, frozen to the spot. Thorn looks up when he sees me.

"I was just getting ready to come find you-"

"You love him," he accuses quietly, but it's less of an accusation and more of a statement. Reagan was right, he must've already known. When I don't say anything right away, he turns, and sets the letter back on my nightstand. I close the door and lock it behind me. This could get messy.

"Thorn, I'm sorry. I wish I could explain what happened, how it got here but-"

"You don't have to. I know. Church fucked with your head, you hated us, and it made room for David. He was there. I wasn't. He took care of you. I didn't," he says coldly. I step toward him.

"Thorn it wasn't like that, you had no idea where I was. We just went through something awful together and it ended up like this," I explain. He shakes his head.

"I should've tried harder to find you," he mutters, sitting on my bed. I swallow loudly.

"You did everything you could."

"He was here, wasn't he? Is that how you got this?" he gestures to the letter. I hesitated.

"I already had the letter," I say quietly, because it was make or break time. Thorn frowns.

"But he was here," he states rather than asks. I look away, ashamed.

"Did you guys…?"

"No! God no. But… he did kiss me. And I kissed him back."

He was silent for a long time, staring off into the distance. I feel tears threatening my vision again, and I need to get out my apology before he refuses to listen to me and hates me forever.

"Before you decide you hate me, please understand that I'm so confused about how I feel for him and more importantly I'm so, so sorry. I didn't want this to happen, and the last thing I wanted was to hurt you, and I was so scared that I had changed into such a different person that you wouldn't want me anymore anyway. So it pushed me away from you in my head and toward him but he helped me realize that the person I am now is still the same Brenna just stronger and wiser. And that I belonged with you. I'm still me. And I'm so sorry I yelled at you guys down there, I've just been so scared about who I was going to become after all of this but I've come to terms that I need to just take it day by day. And none of this even matters because I love you, more than I could have before," I tell him, sobbing by the time I'm done. The "L" word kind of slipped out there at the end, and his head snaps up when I say it.

"I'm not gonna say I'm happy about this. But I'm not mad at you. Maybe at him, a little bit. But not you. Everything you say makes sense to me, and as long as you're being honest with me, I forgive you," he stands, taking my hand. He frowns at the opal.

"I can take it off if it makes you uncomfortable-" I go to take it off, but he stops me. He lowers my hand for me and gives me a sad smile.

"You do love him. I won't hurt you by forcing you to ignore that. And in any case, I believe you when you say you love me more," he says with the same sad smile. I note however, that he still hasn't said he loves me back. It's concerning and a little embarrassing.

"I kissed another man, I'm wearing an engagement ring from said man, and you're still not mad at me?" I ask dryly, and he frowns. But I still see a twinkle of playfulness in his eyes that I've come to know and love. He swoops down and captures my lips in a deep kiss. He grips my waist, backing me up against my dresser, and pinning me between it and his body. He growls against my lips, picks me up, and throws me onto my bed. I squeal as I land and he climbs on top of me.

"Is that a no?" I ask coyly. He bites down on my earlobe, and my hips thrust forward involuntarily.

"Do you want me to be?" he growls playfully in my ear. I giggle, and he pulls back to look at me.

"It's hard to be mad at you when you laugh like that," he sighs, kissing me sweeter. "Tell you what, you can wear the ring for now. But eventually you're gonna have to make room for a different one."

"Wha-" I'm about to panic and question what he means by that, but he pins me back down on the bed and finds a sensitive spot behind my ear. I return his playfulness by biting down lightly in his lips as he kisses me.

Full blown heated passion erupted between us as we realize how much we missed one another. I start to unbutton his shirt, kissing the bare skin underneath. He rips off my jeans, and hesitates when he sees my leg wound.

"Brenna, maybe we shouldn't-"

"Don't," I whisper hoarsely as I continue to remove his shirt.

"I don't want to hurt you, and you've had a bad day, and this could be grief-"

"I love you. Plain and simple. And I don't want to live another day knowing how easy life just ends, and not act on that," I murmur as my lips trail across his skin. I note that he had scars across his bare chest. I pull away and look at them, slightly horrified. I point to them.

"See? That is what I mean. With your career choice, I could lose you at any day," I kiss each scar with need, fiercely trying to battle the strong worries that built inside me. Now that I knew everything, it would become harder to say goodbye to him and Barney when they left. Because now I know the risk involved.

"Brenna, I don't want you to start worrying about me every time I walk out that door now that you know-"

"Shut up and kiss me, you dork," I mutter, and he chuckles. He gladly obliges and moves his hand to my bare hip, while he pulls my shirt over my head gently to avoid the stitches on my shoulder and arm. He hesitates when he sees me in just my bra and underwear. _Shit, was I wearing granny panties?_

But his thumb skirts over a bruise on my ribs, a large one. He steps back and looks at my body, grazing over the bruises and scarring I now have as well. His expression changed from heated to tortured. I close the distance between us, mainly to block his view.

"Hey, I'm ok," I murmur, tucking my head underneath his chin.

"Oh baby, we haven't had nearly enough time together," he sighs, stroking my bare back. It sends shivers across my skin. I grin.

"Wanna run away together?" I tease. He pulls back, and I can see the seriousness in his eyes.

"Yes," he says, and I raise my eyebrows.

"I was joking-"

"I know. But your birthday is next week right? Do you want to go somewhere?" he asks. I look at him, wide-eyed. It was such a bizarre question, to just pick up everything and go with no money.

"I have no actual source of income-"

"It's a birthday present, numbnuts. I'd be paying for it," he says dryly. I laugh at his audacity and choice of name.

"A vacation is a little bit much for a birthday present, Thorn," I tell him. He shrugs.

"Alright, don't tell me where you want to go. Looks like we're going to Siberia," he says. I nudge him.

"Seriously. Don't do that. It's too expensive," I add. He pulls me into the bed and across his lap.

"I can afford it," he mutters sardonically. I narrow my eyes at him.

"You cocky son of a-"

He presses his lips to mine again, grinning. I match his grin and weave my hands around his neck. He caresses the bare skin of my stomach, trailing his hands down to my underwear where he pulls them down slowly. He does the same with his pants, and soon, we're both naked. His movements turn slower and his kisses become more gentle.

"Are you sure about this still? You are injured after all," he whispers in my ear. I sigh and wrap my arms around his massive shoulders.

"I want this. And I want you. Always," I murmur, kissing down his jaw. I can feel the smile on his lips as mine meet his, and soon we're lost in each other.

I woke up several hours later and much earlier than I wanted to. The sun wasn't even up yet, but the sky was getting brighter. It takes a moment to adjust to my surroundings and realize I wasn't in a prison cell on a cold floor. I shiver, becoming suddenly uncomfortable on the bed underneath me. As I do this, an arm tightens around me. And then I remember, and blush. I forgot Thorn was still here. I carefully slid out from under his arm, and found my clothes in the dark. I said on a cream colored sweater and tan leggings, going for a brighter wardrobe. I promised myself I'd take this all day by day, and let myself just experience the things I had to in order to get over all of this. And I woke up feeling good. So no black today.

I crack the door open and slip out of my room, shutting it softly behind me. I was starving, no doubt thanks to the lack of food I've had and Thorns… well… workout. My face was still blushed and red when I see Tool downstairs at his parlor station. The lights are dimmed super low, so I could barely see him. He frowns when he sees me.

"Hey darlin', don't you ever sleep?" he asks, while taking a puff of his pipe. I shrug. I still felt guilty for snapping at him and Barney.

"Jet-lagged I guess. I don't know," I mutter, looking away. He gives me a look.

"And is there a reason you came down the stairs red as a tomato?" he cracks a smile. I glare at him and he laughs.

"Not a word," I mutter, embarrassed that he knew what was up. "Did Reagan go home last night?" I ask. Tool nodded.

"Kind of. She's with Smiley, he took her back to his place," he explains. I nod as I head toward the kitchen.

"I'm actually up because I'm starving. I didn't eat much when I got back last night, nothing looked good. You hungry?" I ask. He smiles warmly.

"I could eat. What're you making?" he asks. I purse my lips.

"I want pancakes and bacon," I turn on my heel and he chuckles.

"Sounds good to me. You seem better," he observes and I halt. I turn back guiltily.

"I am… and… I'm sorry for freaking out last night. It wasn't cool," I sigh, and he rolls his eyes.

"Honey, I'm just glad you're okay. Both for your sake and Barney's. You should've seen him when you were gone. Obsessive, agitated… he even had nightmares. It was… odd. For him," he explains. I frown, not sure I want to discuss this. "He's worried sick about you, you know," he says. Ah, that's where he was going with this.

"I know. I'll talk to him. I really do feel better. But… speaking of him, could you do me a favor?" I ask. He looks surprised for a moment but nods.

"You have to keep it a secret but, I want to get Barney something. As a gift. To show that I'm okay and a thank you for finding me," I tell Tool. He scoffs.

"Baby, he doesn't need anything. And besides he's impossible to shop for-"

I interrupt him and tell him my plan, before he overthinks what I'm wanting to get Barney. And when I finish, his face erupts into a huge grin.

"Actually, that's probably perfect. But you know, it's your birthday next week. Not his," he smirks at me. My jaw drops.

"It's Reagan, isn't it? She told everyone about my birthday? She's planning something! Isn't she?" I accuse, horrified. Tool laughs loudly and raises his hands as a sign of defeat.

"I didn't say a word," he grins. I groan and turn back toward the stove.

It was approaching 5 AM, and the bacon was just out of the grease when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I turn and smirk.

"I should've known cooking bacon was a bad idea. It lures the men from their cages," I narrow my eyes playfully, and Barney just chuckles.

"You seem happier," he observes. _Jesus, was I really that much of a sad sack before?_ I realize now that I just needed a good cry and freak out, but I think what was also missing was the goodbye I needed from David. But I didn't want to think about him, or anything about him. It was not only painful, but unnecessary. He was gone and the man I loved more than anything was upstairs in my bed. I smiled, my face turned red again. But when Barney raises his eyebrows, I whirl around in embarrassment.

"I feel better. I'm sorry about last night. I was out of line and it probably… freaked you out a little bit," I apologize. His mouth twitches downward.

"It's alright. I had it coming. You have no idea how sorry I am… for lying," he grumbles, not sure how to approach this. He's apologized a million times, and I was making it no better. It was time to be the bigger person. I turn toward him.

"I may have acted out of line last night, I may have acted hurt and angry, and I'm not saying those feelings are gone but… I forgive you. Yea it's sucks, for a lot of reasons, and I'm probably going to have an attitude about it for a while. But I understand why you lied, and it's okay. I would've done the same thing," I sigh, leaning across the kitchen bar. Barney only nods, but I can see the emotion behind his eyes. He doesn't believe me, but I don't push. Especially in front of Tool.

As soon as I'm stuffed to the brim of carbs, I feel the most tired I have ever felt in my life. And Barney can tell.

"I've never seen you eat that much. And you look exhausted. Maybe you should go back to sleep?" he suggests. I swat him away.

"I'm fine. I'll just rest and take it easy today. Watch some TV. But then I'd very much like to go out at some point," I toss myself onto the cozy couch and get nestled in. Barney chuckles.

"Got any place in mind?" he asks. I shrug as I become noncommunicative. My eyelids start to droop shut after a few minutes, and I feel someone press a hand gently to my hair, stroking it slightly. And then I'm out.


	23. Chapter 23

_Thorn's POV_

When I wake, Brenna is nowhere to be found. I panic briefly, but then remember that this time, she probably really _was_ just downstairs. It brought a smile to my face. I climb out of her bed, dressing myself in yesterday's clothes… _yikes._ That won't be obvious at all. But I sigh and head downstairs.

But when I see that Tool and Barney are basically in the dark, I halt. And then I realize why. Brenna was passed out on the couch. I frown, wondering why she would've left my side to go to the couch, until I smell remnants of bacon and see dishes in the sink. I recall she never ate much last night. She must've been starving. Barney eyes my clothing, and in an instant, I know I'm busted.

"I swear to god, if you-"

"Barney," Tool warns, smirking. Brenna has sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"What's going on?" she yawns. Barney glares at me, but shakes his head.

"Nothing. You can keep resting," he says to her without looking over to her. She frowns.

"I'm fine. Besides, my leg is killing me. I'm freezing too, is the heat on?" she asks, and I notice her color has shifted down. Her skin is pale for her, dark circles under her eyes, and her lips are almost blue. But I could see sweat on her forehead, in small drops. And when she spoke, it sounded faint and weak. I look at the temperature on the wall. It says 40 degrees outside, and 75 inside. It was perfectly warm.

"Brenna, let me see your leg," I demand, walking over to her. She narrows her eyes.

"Why?" she questions. I growl, annoyed. I match over to her, pull the blanket up, and see that not only has her leg started to bleed, but her sweatpants were clung to the wound. Shit.

I pull her sweatpants up to the wound while she fusses. "God, what?" she yells at me, shoving me away. But when I see the purplish, black veins sprouting from her wound that I hadn't seen, I gasp. Barney launches up.

"What? What's wrong?" he says, and as he reaches her, he sees the wound.

"Fuck. Shit. How long has it looked like that Brenna?" he asks. Her eyes widen in concern.

"Um, it looked fine when Doc stitched it but I hadn't looked at it since. Why, what is that?" she asks shakily.

"We need to get you to a hospital, now. We should have earlier," I pick her up from the couch bridal style, and she continues to fuss out of my grip.

"Oh stop that, the less you walk, the less you'll move your leg."

"Well tell me what's wrong with me!" she demands.

"Do you have cold or hot flashes, fatigue, cold sweats, nausea, etc?" Tool asks her. She nods. "Then you've got blood poisoning, kid. Early stages. It's going to get worse unless you go to a doctor."

She gulps, and soon, everyone is running around. Except her of course. I put her in Barney's truck, and Tool goes to pack her a hospital bag and promises to meet us there.

"Hey kid, I don't know what's going to go down with health insurance and what they'll need. Do you think you could-"

"I put her on your insurance a long time ago. Just in case her condition was worse when we got her back," I tell him, and he smiles at me gratefully. A rare smile. He then climbs in his truck and I follow behind on my motorcycle.

This could be bad.

 _Barney's POV_

We were lucky, so lucky, that we caught it in time. I've seen this get to a point of no return before, and friends of mine had become amputees or worse. Dead.

"You know, if this is really that serious, I'd appreciate getting to the hospital, well, alive," Brenna tells me sarcastically, her voice cracking. She was looking worse by the minute, the infection must've really took off when she fell asleep.

"My driving is the least of your concerns," I glare at her. She frowns but turns to look out the window.

Dammit, this was all my fault. Rooting back to the very beginning. This girl has had a black mark on her name since she was born. Even though she says she forgives me for the deception, I can't believe her. I choose not to. It's easier, because I don't deserve it. Who would, after the life I've lived?

When I go into brooding, for a long time, I notice that Brenna has grown quiet, and still. Very still. I shake her wrist gently.

"Brenna?" I ask, and she raises her hand limply.

"I'm fine," she croaks quietly. Her breathing was become more shallow and weak, and she was burning up. Panic seizes my body as I press the accelerator all the way down, and launch us back in our seats. I see Thorn following me, he accelerates as well. He must be able to tell something is up.

"Hang on, honey. Just breathe in and out slowly," I tell her, and for once, I see her listen to me. Which was rare, and that only made me worry more. I drifted into the ER parking lot of the hospital closest to us, and Thorn followed. I turned to Brenna to help her out of her seat, but she was slumped over entirely.

"Brenna!" I roar, and with no response, and leep from the car, rip her seatbelt off, and run inside with her in my arms.

"Someone help us!" I yell as I enter the ER, and everyone looks up. The sight, I'm sure, was concerning as Brenna looked completely dead. And with her various stitches, cuts, and bruises, it doesn't take long for her to be removed from my arms and put into a bed.

"What happened?" a nurse asks me.

"She has a leg wound, and it's infected, I don't know how long it's looked like that-"

She turns and with surgical scissors, cuts Brenna's sweatpants to her thigh. The nurse gasps when she sees the wound.

"Get her through now! Page Dr. Wilkins, tell him to get the hematologist down here right away, set up a surgical room in unit B. What's her blood type?" the nurse becomes entirely professional in a second when she sees the seriousness of the wound, and it freaks me out.

"She's A-," a nurse responds after pricking Brenna's finger. They start to cart her off, but a nurse stops me.

"Sir, they're taking her into emergency procedure. You can't go back there until we have updates on where they will move her. You'll need to stay here and wait for news," she explains.

"No, I need to-"

"Sir, I'm afraid we can't do that."

"Barney, it's okay. She'll be fine. Thank you ma'am, please let us know if you need anything," Tool appears behind me, smiling at the nurse. She smiles back, a flirty smile. _Ugh. No shame._

"I'll need her insurance card, etc," she directs me back over to her desk but my mind was anywhere but in this room.

Eventually, we work out the health insurance and I take my seat next to Tool and Thorn. Tool has her bag, it's packed full, which means he's prepared for a long haul. Thorn is quiet, brooding like I am. Then, Doc, Christmas, Gunnar, and Luna rush in. Her biggest fans.

"Barney, I'm so sorry I didn't think the wound was that infected and I thought I had cleaned it out-" Doc stammers, but I hold up a hand.

"You couldn't have known, Doc. She should've gone straight to a hospital anyway and I made a different call. It's my fault."

A lot of things were my fault. And if this comes out badly, I don't think I'd handle it well. Blood poisoning was serious and even worse, unpredictable. She could make a full recovery if we caught it in time, she could lose her leg, or worse. She could die.

"Barney… don't do that to yourself. Besides, it's likely that we caught it in time," Luna sits down next to me, and takes my hand in support. I nod, but remain still and quiet. I wasn't in the mood for talking. I was starting to understand why Brenna wished Church was alive still, so I could rip him to shreds myself.

Minutes turned into hours, and Christmas has began to pace. He approaches the desk, about to ask for her condition for the millionth time, when a doctor came out looking tired and worn.

"Brenna… Arvelo?" he calls tiredly. I rise to my feet.

"Are you the father?" he asks. I'm glad he doesn't ask for my ID when I nod, since we don't share the same last name. "She's in critical but stable condition," he says. I narrow my eyes.

"What does that mean?" I ask.

"It means that we caught it early enough, there is some tissue damage but nothing incredibly serious. It was likely that the wound was infected very minimally to begin with, but unfortunately it wasn't exposed to enough air and it was the perfect setting for bacteria to grow. At some heat or pressure in there, and you've got a bad recipe for fast-growing sepsis. She lost a lot of blood on the table so she's hooked up to a double drip of A-. When we checked her blood for further infection, we found intense traces of scopolamine… that's a very dangerous drug. Does she have a history of abusing drugs?"

"No not at all," I tell him, and he just narrows his eyes when I don't elaborate further. He was getting suspicious, as he naturally should. Nevertheless, he continues.

"Timing was her savior here. She couldn't have had an infection in a worse spot. It was right next to the femoral artery, which is why it caught on so fast. Unfortunately, the infection was in her system for long enough to cause organ failure. We were able to save her digestive and circulatory status, but her respiratory system is… struggling."

My heart stops. She wasn't breathing?

"And?" I breathe.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Arvelo. But she's on mechanical ventilation until she's able to breathe on her own again. She's on fluid replacement to restore her natural vitamins and bodily fluids, she was severely lacking in vitamin D. She's also on an IV drip administering antibiotics for the infection and a vasoconstrictor to narrow the blood cells to keep the infection for circulating if for whatever reason the antibiotics don't remove it," the doctor explains. But he still hadn't given me what I needed to hear.

"So… she's going to be okay?" I ask. The doctor hesitates, and my heart drops.

"She'll be okay… but she's very weak. Her body was already exhausted when she came in, she didn't have the proper vitamins and strength to get through surgery but we had no choice but to operate anyway and save her life while we could. But it was risky. And… we lost her on the table," his words sent a punch through my black soul, and I hear several sharp intakes of breath behind me. She died. She was dead. And I wasn't there. Anger surges through my body. I clench my fists together and close my eyes. I should have been there.

"Sorry, Doctor. This is just hard for him to hear, of course. She's okay now, so what seems to be the problem?" Tool asks behind me. But I already had a feeling what he was getting at. With all of the IV's she had, mechanical ventilation, her body was weak, there was only one likely status she was in.

"We resuscitated her on the table, but she came back to us very, very weak. We had to get her on IV drops immediately, and by the time we got her set up, she'd slipped into a coma. Her body needs time to recover, but it's likely she'll come out of it on her own terms with time," the doctor says gently. Tool freezes.

"How long?" Tool asks. The doctor hesitates.

"It's unclear. I doubt it'll be anything long term, but it just depend on how long she'll need to recover. But, I'm afraid I'll need to know why her health was in such poor condition when she came in," he asks suspiciously. _Fuck. This is why we don't do hospitals. Too many questions._

"Her file has a police report that reads she was recently a victim of kidnapping? Is that true?" A nurse gasps. I turn and see Thorn on his phone, typing viciously. I hide a relieved smile, and remind myself to thank him later.

"Yes. Unfortunately. Thank you for saving her doctor. Where is she?" I ask.

"She'll be ready to see you in OR-4, in about an hour," he directs, and after asking a few more questions, he leaves us. When I turn, Reagan is here now as well. I freeze, because she looks pissed off.

"Reagan?" Luna asks.

"If she isn't awake by the time her birthday party comes around, someone is compensating me for the money I spent," she grumbles. I crack a grin, because for whatever reason, her lack of seriousness is exactly what I needed to hear.

"Deal."

After the hour is up, I rush to OR-4. An elderly, grumpy nurse stops us.

"One visitor at a time, sir. Who… uh… who's the father?" she asks tiredly. I smirk. A room full of elderly men, I'm sure the concern was genuine.

"I am. Can I go in?" I ask. She nods.

"She's hooked up to every machine we got. Be gentle," she warns.

When I walk in, my black heart is both relieved and choked. She's alive, I'm reassured by the steady beeping of the heart monitor. But she's hooked up to every tube, every wire, every IV possible. She looks ungodly uncomfortable. She has a large plastic piece keeping her mouth open as the mechanical ventilator pushes her lungs in and out. Her leg was out from under the blankets, the wound was covered lightly by breathable gauze. Her skin is almost translucent from being the palest I've seen her, but then again, she was technically dead for several moments.

The thought of her being dead at any amount of time was killing me inside. The amount of times I've nearly lost this woman was starting to age me horribly, not that I wasn't already old. It's a wonder why she even sticks around, with all of the bullshit I put her through. And even if I wanted to distance her from me and the guys, she'd kick my ass. And anyone else's that agreed. She was a little badass. And admittedly, I was glad.

"How is she?" I hear Thorn ask behind me. I smirk.

"One visitor at a time, this room is crowded enough," I warn jokingly, but Thorn just gives me a look. Then his eyes shift to her, and he halts. I'm sure he looks the same way I did when I walked in. I sigh.

"She looks so…"

"Uncomfortable? Weak? Dead? You name it," I mutter.

"In this state, she should heal nicely. Now, one of you needs to leave," a nurse says behind Thorn. He nods and starts to exit, but I stand.

"I know she's okay. You can sit with her," I trade places with him and he smiles and puts a hand on her forearm. I hear him speaking softly to her as I walk out.

"How is she?" Christmas asks. I smirk.

"Coming from Uncle Lee?" I ask, and he laughs.

"If that's how it is now. Clearly she must be fine if you're willing to be a smart bastard," he rolls his eyes. I shrug.

"She'll be okay. Honestly, she's at her best right now. The longer she's in this state, the more healed and rested she'll feel when she's awake. It sucks, but it's what she needs," I sigh.

"How long will she be under?" I hear an unfamiliar voice ask. When I turn, it's David. I halt, narrowing my eyes.

"I thought you left?" I ask. He sighs.

"I tried. Twice. But she has a knack for nearly dying. And I always get halfway where I'm going before I have to turn around-"

"Well no one said you had to. And it's best if you leave," Thorn growls as he enters the room upon hearing David. David narrows his eyes at him.

"I just wanted to see how she was doing before I left."

"Yeah well she's fine. And you've left like, what? A million times now? Are you trying to hurt her? The constant goodbyes are not only pathetic, but not welcome. She can't move on with you lingering like a lost puppy," Thorn squares his shoulders, approaching David angrily. David smirks and does the same.

"It's not up to you whether I stay or go. And maybe she doesn't want to move on-" he doesn't finish what he's saying before Thorn reels back a fist, and punches him so hard in the jaw that David crumples to the floor. It takes him a second to get is boundaries.

"I'm a bigger man than you. If you want to see her, you've got three minutes. Then I want you gone. And if you EVER come back, I will shred you," Thorn picks him up, pushes him toward Brenna's room, and David stumbles in. Thorn watches the clock, and at exactly three minutes, David emerges with a swollen jaw.

"I suppose I had that coming," David smirked. Thorn narrows his eyes.

"You're lucky it's not worse. Kiss her again and I'll chop off your lips," he threatens. I nearly choke on the coffee I had retrieved. I wasn't shocked that David made a move on her, but I was shocked that Brenna had been honest about it with Thorn. But then again, that's what the right thing to do would have been.

"Don't tell her I was here-"

"Gladly," Thorn scoffs.

"-because she'll only get mad that I was here. Don't get so threatened, she loves you more than she could ever feel about me," David mumbles and walks off. Thorn smirks as he walks away, looking full of shit.

"Cocky son of a bitch, that's my daughter you're talking about," I mutter. But secretly, I was glad it was her and Thorn. I didn't trust David. Being cooped up for that long does something to you, I've seen it in Doc. It makes you unstable, unpredictable, and untrustworthy. Thankfully, Doc had always learned to work through that when we needed him to. But I didn't trust David to do that for Brenna.

I notice Tool in the background, growing more and more pale. He looks ghostly, pissed off, and anxious. I frown. It wasn't like him to worry this much.

"Tool?" I ask. He looks up, and motions for me to come over. "What is it?"

"Church kept track of Brenna and Sabrina. This was all his plan. Having Sabrina killed, letting that soak into Brenna's personality, and then when the time was right, he forced you two together to finally meet," he hisses under his breath with a vacant stare. Why was he so freaked out about that?

"Yea? We knew he was a sick son of a bitch-"

"No, Barney, listen. He had you and Brenna meet when it was convenient for him. Prior to that, she needed to stay in New Orleans, stay close, and under surveillance until the time came. She didn't have anyone in her life to watch her _that_ closely. Except one person. He made sure to keep an eye on her, to keep her reined in, and when the time was right? He brought you to her," he tells me. I stagger back briefly. I hadn't even thought of this.

"No, you don't think-"

"He hasn't been back to check on her. As her foster when she was a minor, as someone that kept watch over her for three years, you'd think he'd stick around to make sure she was okay."

"Dennis…?" I choke, and by now, everyone has heard Tools revelations. He nods.

"But… he _did_ care about her. Why would he sell out?" Gunnar asks behind me.

"When the money's good enough," Tool sighs, shrugging. I was too shocked to be angry. How did I not see this?

"Think you can find him?" I ask Thorn. He nods.

"I'll head back right now, just keep me updated on her status," he heads out the door.

If this was true, I was about to tear his throat out.


	24. Chapter 24

_Brenna's POV_

A steady, annoying beeping sound was agitating my ears, and eventually my eyelids fluttered open in irritation.

The muted, gentle morning sun peeked through the clouds. It filled the room with a refreshing glow, and as soon as my eyes opened all the way, the beeping sounds intensified and other things started to beep.

And that's when I realized the horrible uncomfort I had and all of the various tubes and wires hooked to me. I was in the hospital. I had sepsis… but how long was I out?

As the beeping persisted, a nurse rushes into the room. Her eyes are calm and happy as she approaches me.

"Ms. Arvelo, glad you're back with us. Sit tight and we'll get your ventilation tube removed," she rubs my hand soothingly. I sit back like she says and wait for someone to come in. Eventually, a doctor rushes in following another nurse and they begin to unhook everything I was attached to. Then they start examining me.

"Well, you definitely look better than you did when you came in. How are you feeling?" the doctor asks. I shrug weakly.

"Tired. Weak. But less fuzzy. What happened?"

"Well, you had potent traces of scopolamine in your system, you'd lost the majority of your bodies natural fluids and vitamins, you had a mild case of sepsis, all things considered, and a contusion on your head. So, if all you feel is tired and weak, I'd say you'd healed pretty nicely in your state," he writes on a clipboard as he speaks. I frown. _In my state?_

"How long have I been down?" I ask.

"Five days. Your father has been notified that you're awake and he'll be here soon. Unfortunately, we couldn't allow him to stay. OR policy. I'm sure he'll have something to say, he's quite grumpy, your dad," the doctor smirks in good humor and I grin right back.

"Sounds like him. Thank you so much," I tell the doctor and he smiles and nods.

"We'll run some extra tests, and if you pass all of those, we'll get started on getting you home," he assures and heads out of the room. And what feels like only minutes later, Barney busts into the room.

"Hey," I smile, and seconds later, I'm in a rare hug. I sigh quietly to myself, because it felt good to be safe again.

"You've seriously got to knock this shit off," he mutters grumpily. I laugh and shove him lightly.

"Like you're exactly shocked," I grin. He rolls his eyes.

"Sadly, no. How many times am I going to find you unconscious, drugged, passed out, or dead?" he jokes, but his eyes show the lifting anxiety he's had over the last five days.

"Technically haven't been dead yet," I tell him, and he frowns.

"Not true," he sighs, closing his eyes. I gape at him. "They lost you, once. For a moment or two."

 _Shit._ Now I felt bad.

"I'm-"

"Don't you even start apologizing, what are you going to apologize for? For dying? For getting stabbed? For getting kidnapped? Because all of that is on me," he grumbles. I stare at him, because his outburst was unexpected.

"I said I forgave you. Stop beating yourself up about it," I tell him. Instead of getting a response, the doctor comes back in and begins more tests.

Several hours later, I'm cleared to go. I clean up with a lousy hospital shower, Barney has brought clean clothes thankfully, and I dry my hair as best I can around my stitched contusion. My leg is stitched up tighter but I feel worlds better than I did when I got back. Barney stays silent, but anxious. Which was odd, he never looks nervous about anything. We pull into the garage side of Tool's since he drove the truck, and it's pitch black. I can't see a thing.

"Oh yeah, we're having a power problem. Here, I'll help you," he rushes over to my side of the truck and helps me down. He leads me over to parlor entrance.

"When did this happen?" I ask.

"When a certain blonde haired girl invaded Tool's Garage after a certain dark haired girl came around," he jokes. I turn to him questionably, but my vision is suddenly blinded by light and my ears blasted out with a giant, loud, "Surprise!"

I jump, packing briefly at the loud noise, and briefly look around for a weapon. But then I realize it's just Reagan, holding out a birthday cake with 21 lit candles. A huge happy birthday banner is strung across the parlor, and I laugh. Everyone was there, even the Spaniard that talks too much. He'd addressed me briefly on the plane back, but mostly he just let me rest and tormented everyone else.

They sing happy birthday in a horrible off-pitch noise, and I shake my head in embarrassment. I hobble over on my crutches to the cake when they've ceased their wretched singing, and blow out the candles. But of course, my wish was secret. Thorn immediately parts the crowd and collects me in his arms lightly. I instantly felt better being there, and I hugged him back tightly as my crutches fell to the floor. We hugged for so long that Barney cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"We tried to make your favorite food,but Reagan insisted on doing that herself as well," Christmas says with a faux glare at Reagan. I laugh.

"Please, y'all may love my girl but you don't know her like I do. And my girl likes spicy chili, and I'm talking _spicy_ chili. So be warned," she grins. Caesars eyes light up, because I know we share that love. All native New Orleans love a good spicy food. Especially spicy chicken chili.

I notice a young pretty woman standing next to Lee, with dark hair and tanned skin. She had a beautiful face, some very unnoticeable wrinkles, but other than that, she seemed almost too young for him. But I was probably wrong.

"Brenna, this is Lace. My fiancé," Lee introduces. I smile and shake her hand.

"I've heard a lot about you," I tell her, slightly lying because they kept her kind of lowkey until I knew the truth. Lace beams up at Lee since she now knows he's spoke of her, and I give him a subtle wink. That'll score him a few extra brownie points. We speak briefly before I move on, accepting birthday greetings from everyone. Tool was at the end of the line, looking giddy. I grin when I reach him. He envelopes me in a massive hug that accept gladly, and he sticks something in my jean pocket.

"While you were under, I still did Barney's present. Those are the papers," he murmurs in my hair. I grin ear to ear.

"What would I do without you?" I hug him a little harder and let go, and he's red in the face. He gently shoves me away.

"Get outta here, brat. Making me soft," he mutters jokingly and I laugh. When I turn away, I'm face to face with Gunnar and an older blonde woman at his side.

"Brenna, this is Vera. Vera, this is Barney's daughter, Brenna," he introduces. Ah, this must be his lady from a while back. She smiles widely and warmly at me, taking my hand gently instead of shaking it.

"I've heard plenty about you, little one. I can see you have a good heart," she says as she looks at my hand. I look at Gunnar, confused.

"She's a gypsy, and a natural healer," he explains. And for whatever reason, that makes her absolutely perfect for Gunnar. I grin.

"Well it's nice to meet you, Vera. What does a healer do?" I ask. She smiles warmly at the interest in her career.

"I can heal a wounded body, a shredded spirit, I can take a ravaged, war-torn soul, and make them see their worth and value," she says gently, and I can tell she's thinking of her man. It's sappy, but it's perfect. I like her immediately.

Tool, Lee, and Doc all get into their usual knife games. I'm more invested than I have been in the past, because it's actually hilarious watching Tool try to do this drunk.

"Tool, you may want to try actually hitting the target," I laugh and crack open a beer. Barney narrows his eyes.

"Your pain medicine," he warns. I glare at him.

"It's my 21st birthday. I'm drinking," I mutter. Doc laughs.

"One won't kill her. Just one," he warns, winking at me. I smile and take a slug. Tool stumbles, and I jump up and take his elbow.

"Ok, you're cut off," I mutter, helping him over to a couch. He's laughing, pointing at Barney.

"She's so you," he wheezes. I roll my eyes. Barney is smirking when I turn, and everyone resumes their usual activities. The noise level increases, and I decide now it's probably the best time to give Barney his gift. But when I turn, he's gone. I frown.

"Smoke break, kid. He's outside," Toll Road says. I nod, heading outside. It's cold out, and I wish I had a jacket to cover my bare arms as soon as I step outside. It was ridiculous how pansy I was in the cold- it was only about 44 out. Which was low for New Orleans, it was usually around mid-50's here. Not cold at all. But I can't do anything below 70.

I see him sitting on the back of his truck in the garage, smoking in silence.

"Trying to avoid the party?" I ask. He turns, and scoffs.

"Yes and no. I think Tool looks for excuses to get wasted. He and Reagan are one and the same," he mutters. I laugh.

"Yeah, but that's okay. She needs a better father figure in her life."

"And a murderous mercenary with a dark past is the kind of father figure you want for her?" he asks bitterly, and I know what he's _really_ getting at. I sigh.

"He's retired," I mutter. Barney gives me a look.

"Not the point," he growls.

"Can we not do this on my birthday? It's been a rough week," I growl back.

"Because of me," he mutters.

"And I wouldn't change a damn thing. Where would I be right now? Another homeless shelter? Actually no, I'd be dead. Wiley would have killed me for stealing his money. I'd be in a grave six feet under that no one gave a shit about," I rant. Barney looks at me, sad.

"You've had an unfair life kid," he mutters. I climb on the back of the truck and sit with him despite the freezing air.

"But I'm happy. And I mean that," I tell him and he groans. I turn to him.

"What?"

"I'm about to ruin that," he sighs. I turn to him all the way, concerned.

"Barney, you're scaring me. What's wrong?" I ask. I was worried that even after all this time, he was going to kick me out.

"You wanted me to be honest with you. About everything. So, I'm going to try-"

"Ok you're seriously going to give me an aneurysm. What's up?"

"It's Dennis," he sighs. I feel my brows furrow. I haven't heard from Dennis is forever, actually, since he introduced Barney and I. I hadn't even thought of it. Why hadn't he contacted me?

Dread filled my stomach. _Oh my god. He's dead._

"He's not dead," Barney rushes to say when he sees my face. I breathe heavily.

"What the fuck, you can't do that to me-"

"He betrayed you. Church paid him off to introduce us. I don't know if he knew what Church was planning for you, but judging by the fact that he took the money and ran, he likely knew," he spits out quickly. I'm stunned to silence. It fit so well, it made so much sense. And I was so angry. I turned away, closing my eyes.

"Tool figured it out while you were in the hospital. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want to on your birthday. But I was also concerned you'd be mad if I lied-"

"I'm happy you told me. This is a good step in a good direction. But you've _got_ to stop beating yourself up over this," I tell him. He chuckles.

"I know. Do you want your birthday present now?" he asks. I narrow my eyes.

"I said no gifts."

"Jesus, you get that from your mother," he mutters. He starts to get off the truck, but I stop him.

"Actually, I got you something," I say hesitantly. I'm unsure of how he'll react, but I guess it's now or never. He raises an eyebrow.

"Um… it's your birthday, kid. And in any case, I don't need anything-"

I pull the papers from my back pocket, handing them to him. He takes them cautiously, looking at me weirdly.

"Just open them," I laugh at his concern. He unfolds the papers, and begins to read them. I watch his demeanor change as he begins to read the document, and eventually, his head snaps up in disbelief. I shrug.

"But what about your mom?" he asks in disbelief. I sigh, smiling sadly and looking up at the cold, starry sky. She was somewhere up there, looking down at us, and I knew she was smiling. She would be happy about this.

"I've carried her death with me everywhere I went for three years. She would've strangled me herself for allowing myself to fall into a pit of grief. And for the first time, I think I've finally managed to let her go. She'll always be with me and by my side, but in all honesty, she'd be happy about this. This isn't about her, or getting rid of her. It's about moving on and being happy while she watches over me," I tell him. He's re-reading the document. He sets them on the bed of the truck and grips me tightly in a hug.

"It has a nice ring to it," he jokes. I laugh.

"I thought so too," I hug him back, feeling relieved that he appreciated the gesture so much. I pick up the document after he's released me. I read it through briefly, and smile when I get to the line.

 _Made official and notarized by the state of Louisiana, please note the official name change: Brenna Marcella Ross._


	25. Chapter 25

_Brenna's POV_

"You've made me a softy, you know that right?" he mutters. I laugh. We're sitting on the truck bed still, he's still smoking, but now he has his arm around me loosely and we're joking around.

"You could retire," I joke lightly, and he gives me a look. I laugh.

"You sound like your mother," he mutters. I smile.

"Worth a shot," I sigh. Barney's smile slips slightly.

"Now that you know… I'll probably be gone more, on jobs. I don't want you worrying about me-"

"Thorn gave me this lecture. Or tried to anyway. You can say it all you want, I'm always going to worry about you, Dad," I frown, and I don't even realize I've said dad until a few moments afterward. His smile returns.

"That has a nice ring to it as well," he nudges me.

"You have gone soft," I narrow my eyes at him, feeling my face heat with embarrassment. He chuckles over his cigar.

"Hey, I almost forgot. Your birthday present," he grins. I groan.

"Please, can we just-"

"Oh shut up and get your ass up, come on," he laughs, shoving me off the truck. I grab my crutches and hobble behind him as he leads me out of the garage. He stops in front of a car, and turns. With a set of keys in his hand.

"I won't be around much, which means your chauffeur isn't gonna be here either," he jokes, tossing the keys to me. I gawk at them. And then he steps aside to reveal a brand new Jeep behind him. I thought it was the car beside him. But he leads me over to the Jeep, and I'm stunned to silence as he shows me all the features. He looks like a kid on Christmas as he helps me climb in.

"You're quiet," he observes, hesitant.

"No, I just… I love it...But it's just so much," I choke breathlessly by his generosity. He laughs.

"Kid, trust me, it didn't set me back much. Besides, you needed a car. And this one suited you, I felt like. Come on, we'll take it for a test drive," he says, rather giddily for him, and rushes around to the passenger side. I laugh and buckle my seat belt.

"So, have you guys taken any new jobs?" I ask nonchalantly, because I'm wondering if he'll be leaving soon. We drive through downtown but I purposefully avoid Murdoch Avenue.

"Not exactly… a personal one. We need to find Dennis," he tells me. I nod.

"I want to come," I state. He whips around to look at me incredulously.

"There is no way in hell-"

"If you don't bring me in on this, I'll go do it myself," I mutter under my breath.

"Brenna, I don't think you realize what you're asking. It may take actual blood and guts to get to Dennis. He hid himself well. I'm not putting my own daughter in a firefight. End of story," he says, bewildered.

"She was my mother. She raised me. I get that it's personal for you… but you had her for a couple of years. I had her for seventeen. This is far more personal for me. And in any case, I could hang back if you wanted me to. But I'm in the room when he's dead," I demand. He shakes his head, putting a hand on his forehead.

"I get that. I do. But that's how it starts. You start by wanting to tag along, to see someone avenge a death or whatever reason. And soon you're thirty years in the blood and guts and there's no point of return," he sighs.

"I'll reiterate: if you don't include me on this, I'll do it myself," I warn him. He growls.

"Can I at least think about it? Talk to the guys?" he asks. That seems fair, so I nod. Then, a new topic of conversation pops up in my head.

"So… that woman that was at the funeral and cremation home last week… Abby, right?" I ask. Barney frowns, unsure of where I'm going with this.

"Yea?"

"She seems to like you," I comment. He groans.

"Could we avoid that topic please?" He begs, and I laugh.

"I'm just saying. She's pretty, and very kind," I observe. Barney gives me a faux glare.

"Oh no, kid. If you're going to embarrass me with that talk, I could do the same to you," he threatens. I roll my eyes.

"Whatever. All I'm saying is that it may do you some good to have a lady in your life. I'd be okay with it too, you know."

"And I've told you why I can't, same reason why it didn't work out with your mom," he gives me a look. I sigh.

"Just give her a call sometime," I offer. Barney frowns but doesn't respond. I turn right suddenly, inspiration hitting me.

"If you're taking me to the funeral-"

"I'm not. I usually go somewhere on my birthday, and in fact, I usually go here quite often. But I haven't in months. But I think you need to go too," I say quietly. He looks at me strangely but holds his tongue.

We drive for another twenty minutes almost outside of the city and I pull into a graveyard with a small church. I turn off the ignition and jump out before Barney asks any questions.

"Brenna, what are we doing?" he calls from the side of my Jeep. I turn slightly.

"I haven't seen her in months. She deserves to know why," I call back to him, marching off toward the graveyard. I hear his boots start crunching on the brown leaves on the ground behind me. I was still in a black fitness tank top, so the cool breeze froze me to my core. But once I reach the top of a hill, and the wind is howling around me, my body begins to shake. Barney catches up to me, throwing something around my shoulders.

"Do you want to add illness to your track record of injuries and accidents?" He huffs as he reaches me. He's thrown his own jacket around me, but he's wearing long sleeves. I slide my arms into the warm coat sleeves. I shrug, not answering him. "Where are we, seriously?"

I smile sadly, and gesture to the graves in front of me.

"The Arvelo Family plot."

I show him all the graves of my grams, the reason he met my mom it turns out, my gramps, and Lou, my uncle. Barney looks at me bewildered.

"What happened to Lou? I thought he was just off in the military?" he asks. My smile fades, as I recall my first encounter with death. Uncle Lou was only about ten years older than I. He was in the military, a marine in fact, and he'd been in for ten years too. We were close, but that was because the family was small. We had to be.

"Accident, over in Iraq. Didn't even die in war. A truck he was driving got too hot. Exploded. There wasn't a damn thing left of him. It's an empty grave," I sigh. Barney looks at me silently, and wraps an arm around my shoulders tightly.

"Following that, gramps died. His heart gave out, but he had heart problems for years. You probably knew that," I gesture towards gramps' grave. Barney nods.

"Yes," is all he manages. He's still looking at my face, but I refuse to look at him until I'm done. But now he knows what's coming.

"And after gramps died, well, it didn't take long for grams to follow. There wasn't much wrong with her to be honest. She just got sick. There wasn't a single reason she couldn't heal. She had the healthiest body an eighty year old woman could manage. Strong immune system, the doctors said. Thu chalked it up to old age, and how some people just lose the life they once had all of a sudden."

Barney turns to her grave with a sad smile, putting a hand on top of it and paying his respects.

"You sound like you don't believe that."

"I don't," I sigh.

"What do you think happened?"

I pause, not sure how to phrase it.

"You saw how grams was with gramps. She wasn't sick. She lost her lifeline. She died of a broken heart," I mutter sadly. Barney nods, turning to the last grave, and halts as he reads the words.

 _Here lies Sabrina Camille Arvelo._

 _Mother. Daughter. Sister._

 _May her soul rest peacefully._

 _1959-2014_

I kneel in front of her grave, resting a hand on top.

"Hey mama. Sorry I haven't been around in a while. But something tells me you know why. I brought him here today to talk to you. But I want you to know, wherever you are, I'm good. I'm alright. And I love you," I whisper so low that not even the wind could hear me.

He walks in front of her grave, standing in front of it in silence. I watch the display of emotions dance across his face. Anger. Which turns to fury, then immediately turns to regret.

"I should've been there for you guys. I was stupid to think it was better this way," he sighs. I shake my head.

"You can't play that game. You can't do what ifs for the rest of your life," I tell him, approaching his side once more. But he remains still, rock-like. Almost as if he was a statue. He still blames himself for all of my shortcomings. I shake my head, wanting to laugh at the mess that was my life. He turns to me.

"What?"

"You still blame yourself," I state.

"Because it is-"

"It isn't! You think you brought all of this death and destruction into my life? It was already there. That's why I brought you here. To prove a point. Lou was the first death I ever learned to deal with. Then gramps. Then grams. We weren't a big family. We were all very close. And somewhere inside me, I knew mom was next. Because I felt cursed. I just waited for her to leave me too. And I think that's why it hurt so much when I did lose her. Because it just confirmed all of my superstitions, and it reaffirmed that I was meant to be alone. So that's how I lived. For _three years,_ Dad. I forced myself to be alone because everyone around me dies. So if you think you brought all this shit into my life, don't. Because it already had it. And I had to go through it alone. But I don't have to anymore, and that makes everything seem so much better. So please, stop blaming yourself. I share your blood. Dealing with death is just a part of my DNA," I tell him. He turns to me, smiling sadly.

"I hate to admit this, because I've avoided the thought for so long but… you and I are exactly alike," he mutters grumpily and with a trace of humor. I smile and sigh.

"So we're both depressing sad sacks that somehow manage to have a trace of both abandonment _and_ commitment issues?" I tell him. He actually laughs.

"Sounds about right. Thank you for bringing me here… do you think you could give me a minute alone with her? I have some serious apologizing to do," he nods towards mom's grave. I shrug off the jacket and hand it back to him.

"I'll be in the Jeep," I head back down the hill. When I get back to the Jeep, Thorns motorcycle was there. I halt. And then he rounds the corner from the back. He's holding my jacket, with a sad smile.

"Reagan told me what you were probably doing, and where."

"Why are you here then?" I ask.

"To give you this," he hands my jacket to me and I slide my arms through gratefully. But I doubt that's why he came here.

"Why are you here?" I ask again. He sighs.

"I'm actually here for Barney. He told me to track down Dennis and tell him the moment I knew something. He didn't bring his phone, and he has to know right now."

"Why? What is it?" I ask. He hesitates. I clench my fists. "So help me god-"

"Alright, alright! Don't beat me up," he laughs at my face but continues, "he's still in nearby. A safe house that Church had up north. Likely where Church himself stayed while keeping an eye on you. He's got quite the network of people, it seems," he sighs.

"Is he alone?" I ask. Thorn sighs because he knows he should've be telling me this. But the best thing about the man I love was that he gave me enough respect to let me make my own choices. I knew he never wanted to lie to me, ever. But Barney would've gutted him for spilling the beans.

"Alone enough. We could take out any guards, but I doubt it'll be anything extensive. Church is dead, the trees been cut. Now we wait for the roots to dry up and rot," he tells me. I nod.

"I'll try and talk to Barney about letting you come… I know you'll want to," he puts an arm around me and kisses my forehead. I smile and lean into his arms.

"Thank you," I tell him.

"Anything for the birthday girl," he grins. It still nags me that he hadn't said I love you back yet. But what was I going to do? Force it out of him? No.

I wrap my arms around him tightly, sighing. My leg was killing me and I needed to rest, but I didn't want to move from his arms. But without a word, he picks me up bridal style and sets me in the passenger seat of the Jeep.

"You should be resting," he lectures. I give him a look.

"Bite me," I glare. He grins and swoops down, capturing my cold lips against his warm mouth. How are his lips _always_ so warm? It was perfect. He hadn't kissed me since I got back from the hospital, and I think we both just realized that. Because desire explodes between our bodies as he grips me to his chest tightly. I wrap my arms around his neck and keep one hand gently on the side of his face. He bites my bottom lip gently, enough to make me groan quietly, and then he pulls back completely breathless.

"Gladly," he responds in my ear, and I giggle. "Oh, it's good to hear that laugh baby."

He holds me close as I sit in the passenger seat and he stands outside, stroking my hair gently. I hear boots crunch behind him, and I know Barney is back.

"What did you find?" he asks immediately. I wasn't used to this side of them, the serious and business like side. Now, they were talking about the job and it was down to business. It was different. But it felt good to be in the loop at least.

"Safe house. Two hours north. I can brief everyone within the hour," he says. Barney nods and gets in the driver side. Thorn gets on his bike and drives off, but Barney hesitates because he knows I'm going to ask to come. He puts a head in his hand.

"I don't like this-"

"But?" I ask eagerly. He can't conceal a grin at my enthusiasm.

"But it is your birthday and-"

"Yes!" I exclaim, buckling my seatbelt. He laughs.

"I'll need to talk to the guys about this first," he warns me, and I nod. I had confidence they'd be on my side anyhow, much to Barney's dismay.

"Hell yeah she can come! Little mama can shoot," Caesar hollered, and everyone laughed. Barney frowns, disappointed in his team for being so on board with this.

"You'll be staying out of most of the action, I presume?" Lee asks, looking at my leg unsure. I smile at him. He's always been kind to me, since day one.

"If that's where you want me," I tell him with a smile. Barney glares at me.

"So you'll listen to him, and not me?" he demands.

"Believe it or not, you don't know everything. And besides, it's way more fun to annoy you," I gloat, and he throws a chip at me from the bowl Galgo has. He starts going on and on into Toll Roads ear about the origin of potato chips, and he looks at everyone pleadingly for help. I stifle a grin, but he catches me trying not to crack a smile. He narrows his eyes and flicks a chip at me.

"Careful, this girl has been known to start food fights," Reagan says, entering the room in her pajamas. I frown.

"I thought you went home?"

"Nah, dad has one of his many bitches…uh… I mean, _women_ home tonight. Besides, I missed you and you snuck away from your own birthday party. Who even does that?"

"Someone who didn't want one to begin with," I glare at her, and she smiles proudly.

"You're welcome. So what are you guys doing?" she asks the room.

"Waiting for the rest of the team to show up. In the meantime, what's this about a food fight?" Thorn asks coyly. I narrow my eyes as Reagan's light up.

"Well, before all hell broke loose, this sad sack," she gestures to me with her thumb, "used to be fun."

"Hey!" I pout, slightly offended. Death at such an early age changes you.

"Hey, I didn't say it was your fault or that I blamed you. Honestly if I were you, I'd be in a much worse spot," she raises her hands in a sign of surrender before I became upset. But I already felt a slight sting by her words. I could tell she was still tipsy from the party.

"Aside from drugs and suicide, how much worse could I have gotten?" I cock my head to the side, curious to see what her response was to that. She narrows her eyes, now catching on that she was striking a nerve and needed to stop. But tipsy Reagan never does. She just pushes further.

"You put yourself through hell. I never understood it. I'm glad you can deal with your pain so well now," she gestures to me. My face heats up because I'm uncomfortable sharing this information about my past with the entire room.

"Reagan," I warn through my teeth, letting her know I was reaching my boiling point.

"I'm sorry, you're right. I'm just saying, before all this pain, you used to be more fun," she sighs. I stand, annoyed and pissed off, and Barney does too because he likely recognizes the stance I take when I'm ready to rip off someone's head.

"Yes, you're right, I was so much for fun before I lost everyone in my family. I was _so_ much more interesting before I saw my mother practically get decapitated by our own car at the hands of a deranged lunatic. I'm so sorry that my character has been in serious lack ever since I was kidnapped by said lunatic and injected with a drug that made me feel like my skin was boiling off my bones and my organs were shredding themselves from the inside out. I'll try to remember a time when I didn't have stitches from multiple stab wounds and puncture wounds from when I was strapped to a table and stabbed and beaten over and over again until all I could see was my own blood. I'm deeply sorry for any changes you see in me that you don't like," I spat at her, putting her back in her place. She gulps, and has the decency to look terrified. But as soon as I realize I've made a scene with my anger, I sit back down on the bar stool. I swing around, facing away from everyone in embarrassment. They were quiet, and when I peaked around, they were all staring at me with various expressions of either worry, pity, or a mixture. I sigh.

"Don't give me your pity, it'll just make me more upset," I mumble. Tool stumbles out of his parlor holding a bottle of liquor, still entirely too drunk. Especially for his age.

"Tool, you should be resting," I warn him. He scoffs but says nothing as he lounges on couch. He belligerently starts picking on Reagan and the two are soon laughing uncontrollably and my earlier tirade is forgotten. I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"You can add a temper to the things we share too," Barney says. I laugh.

"I know. I'm sorry," I sigh. He shrugs.

"She kind of needed that. She can be a bit of a brat," he says. I laugh bitterly and nod.

"You have no idea," I mutter. Thorn comes up behind me and turns to Barney.

"Smilee, Luna, and Mars are on their way back and I can't reach Doc. He may already be passed out for the night," he informs him. Barney growls.

"Fine. We'll do this without them," he mutters grumpily. It was different seeing him in boss mode. Thorn approaches my side, reading my face.

"Get ready to enter our world," he whispers, kissing my temple gently. I smile and gave him a reassuring hug.

"Alright, it looks like Church had a network of safe houses across the nation, unshockingly. The closest one to us is two or three hours north, near Jackson. We located Dennis, minimal security, in and out deal," Barney zooms in on the computer screen that used to be the lounges TV, but was hooked up to a bunch of technical gear. It was weird seeing all of this, wondering how this went under my nose. But they probably didn't meet here when I didn't know anything. He continues his briefing and then he sighs when he gets to assigning duties.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but Brenna, I want you in the truck waiting to pick us up in case anything goes wrong. And if all goes well, you can meet us and ask Dennis a few questions," he nods at me and I remain as stoic as possible as I try to contain my own thoughts. They were both happy that I was included in this, but angry that I had been so betrayed. Barney finishes assigning tasks, tells us we're leaving in the morning, and the crowd disperses. Then, Thorn approaches me.

"Short-lived party," he smiles sadly. I shrug.

"Didn't want one anyway," I sigh, walking straight to him and wrapping my arms around his torso. The gesture surprises him.

"You okay?" he asks. I shrug again.

"I've had a rough year. And I'm not sad, or mad, or even upset. I just feel tired. So tired," I mumble. I felt like I couldn't catch a break wherever I went. Thorn rubs my shoulder.

"I know. That's why I'm excited to tell you your birthday present," I hear the grin in his voice and I stiffen.

"What." I had said no presents. I should've known Reagan would be the only one to respect that.

"Well, you said you're exhausted. And you need a time out, and we've already discussed it briefly-"

"You didn't-"

He hands me a small passport book with mine and his, and two tickets to Pisa International Airport. Also, reservations for a car, a fancy looking hotel in Portofino, and a pamphlet for scuba diving, parasailing, cliff jumping, skydiving, and jet ski. It was a full adrenaline junkies package. And I could tell Thorn was beyond excited, as I knew he would be. But even though I hate getting gifts, for whatever reason, I get so excited and thrilled just looking at the passport book full of goodies. My head shoots up, and I see Thorns anxious face awaiting my reaction. But as soon as he sees the excitement buzzing in my eyes, he relaxes.

"This is amazing!" I laugh and throw my arms around his neck tightly. The movement is too quick and it strains my stitches on my stomach and I gasp. Thorn shoved my arms off.

"Easy!" he admonishes and frowns at me. "We aren't set to leave for about a month or so. I wanted to give you plenty of time to heal. But you'll need to buy some suitcases, we'll be there for two weeks," he says. I grin up at him, not even caring that he probably spent a fortune to do this for me.

"This is perfect. Thank you," I murmur, hugging him gentler this time.

"You're welcome," he hugs me back, and we stay like that for a while before Barney clears his throat behind us. I roll my eyes and pull away from Thorn before Barney becomes incredibly uncomfortable.

Later on when I've emerged from a shower that I've managed to take by myself, Thorn is sitting on my bed. I squeak and wrap my towel around me tighter and shut the door quickly.

"What are you doing in here?" I hiss, covering myself. He gives me a look.

"Please, when I see something I haven't seen before, I'll throw a dollar at it," he says in his most deadpan voice. I giggle and throw a shirt at him.

"If you keep sleeping in my bed, Barney may actually kill you," I turn away and start grabbing clothes from my closet.

"Well, you could start sleeping in mine," he murmurs, and I feel his body behind mine. I freeze, both because of what he said and because of the sudden extreme attraction buzzing between us. Knowing there was nothing between my body and his was a towel made that no better.

"What… what do you mean?" I stammer, and he reaches up and strokes my bare arm tenderly. He takes my hand and weaves his fingers between mine, the other hand still gently caressing the bare skin of my shoulder, avoiding the stitches. Then he presses his lips gently to the curve of my neck, kissing his was up to my ear. I lean back into his body, sighing as he relaxes me.

"I mean, I want to be able to do this every day, without feeling like I have to sneak around to do it," he whispers in my ear, and suddenly unhooks my towel. It falls to the floor, and I grin.

"I just got out of the hospital today," I warn him jokingly, and he scoffs.

"You're the toughest person I've ever met. Maybe even more than Barney. You can handle yourself," he spins me around and grasps my face as he pushes his lips onto mine passionately. He wraps an arm around my naked waist, pulling me closer to him. His comment makes me smile, because I wish other people saw me the way he does. Hell, I wish I saw myself the way he does.

"Thank you for my birthday present. I'm very excited," I murmur through kisses. I feel his grin against my lips.

"I'm glad."

"I love you," I say, and I hesitate as I realize it slipped out again. He still hadn't said it back, and instead of doing that, he groans as if he's in pain and picks me up gently. He guides me over to the bed, rips off his clothes in a matter of seconds, and pulls me into his naked lap. He strokes my spine tenderly, sending shivers across my body. But I still couldn't ignore that he wasn't saying it back.

"What did you wish for your birthday?" he asked. I grin against his lips.

"Can't tell, it won't come true," I whisper, clinging to him. He bites down on my bottom lip, growling as a warning. I giggle.

"Old wives tale. I want to make it come true," he kissed down my neck, distracting me.

"Uhm…" I trail off, and I feel his lips curl into a wicked grin against my skin.

"Am I distracting you?" he murmurs. I swat at him.

"A little. If I tell you, can I ask you a question and you be completely honest with me?" I tell him. He hesitates but nods.

"I wished Barney would retire."

Thorn is stunned into silence, and he pulls back and looks at my face adoringly.

"You really care about him," he smiles, cupping my face gently. I shrug.

"He's the only family I have left. If I lost him, that's it. I'd be alone. The last Arvelo, and the last Ross," I sigh. Thorn frowns sadly.

"You've had an unfair life," he kisses my forehead softly. I lean into his lips, wrapping myself around him tighter. "You wouldn't be alone, though. I've got you," he says, his arms tightening around me. I smile.

"Can I ask you my question now?" I inquire. Thorn tenses but nods.

"Ok… well, I'm not sure how to ask this. And please know I'm not trying to nag, or force you to say it, I just need to know if there's a reason-"

"I love you," he chokes, looking away. I shocked into silence, for what feels like minutes. I pull his face to look at me, and his eyes are tortured.

"What's wrong?"

"I love you, that's what's wrong. I'm worried… that this is just going to end the way that it did between your mom and Barney. Mercs don't have a good relationship track record. I don't want to hurt you by loving you. Because eventually and inevitably, I'm going to get hurt. It's gonna piss you off because, even though you haven't said it, you want me to retire to-"

"I never said that-"

"That's exactly what I said. You didn't say it, but I know you'd never put me in the position to choose between my job and you. Both because you're selfless and way too nice," he smiles sadly and I melt.

"Of course I want you to retire, too. That was the other part of my wish. I just can't force you to make that decision. And as far as worrying goes? Don't. Barney regrets his decision to this day for walking away," I explain. Thorn meets my eyes finally, and whips me down onto my back. He crawls up my body and pins me down. His nose runs up mine, his eyes closing with the same tortured expression.

"I know. But you don't understand. It's not just you that will spend way too much time and energy worrying about me. I'll worry about you. Any time, at any moment, something could go wrong. Someone could want revenge. And you're the first person they'd come after. My parents are pretty low and tight, and they know they have to be. Thankfully, it's not just because of my career. Being Americans in their line of work and where they are comes with a threat, so they know to keep it locked down. But anyone could get to you," he chokes, caressing my face now with both his hands. Actually, he was gripping my face with anxiety.

"Thorn, it's all okay-"

"No, it isn't. You still don't understand," he growls and looks away.

"Well what am I missing?" I demand. He sighs, and turns back to me. He looks at me with a sincere and completely vulnerable gaze that makes my heart squeeze.

"You are my life. I live and breathe for you. If I lost you, it'd be like cutting off my lifeline. I've gotten too close to that, now twice. And I'm not sure if I could handle a third. Brenna… I haven't said I love you because there isn't a big enough word. And I've known that since the minute you walked in the parlor door almost half a year ago. I _need_ you. Love isn't, and won't ever be, enough," he professes, his eyes never leaving mine. And I don't have the words to tell him I feel the same way, so instead I push my lips against his forcefully, and pushes me against him the rest of the way.

I wake a while later, it's still pitch black out, but someone is rhythmically stroking the curve of my side. I smile when I realize who it is.

"Hey you, shouldn't you be sleeping?" I murmur. He pulls my waist closer to his and kisses my neck softly.

"Ditto. You weren't sleeping well, tossing and turning. I was worried you were pulling your stitches. Bad dream?" he asks. I purse my lips as I search my memory.

"Can't remember. Usually don't. I'm sorry, did I wake you?" I ask. He pulls me onto my back so he can look at me.

"Nah I was already awake," he says softly.

"Why?" I yawn. He smiles fondly.

"I'll tell you tomorrow. Go to sleep," he kisses my forehead. I frown and roll over to face him.

"What's wrong?

"Nothing really… I just… I don't know," he chuckles nervously. I sit up slightly in concern.

"Thorn, what's wrong?" I say a little bit more alarmed.

"I have a question to ask you, and you never gave me an answer when I brought it up earlier," he grins down at me with his signature boyish crooked grin that makes my heart flutter. Which means he wants something.

"Okay…" I say cautiously. He takes a deep breath.

"I'm tired of never sleeping in my own apartment that I'm paying for," he sighs, feigning frustration. I laugh.

"Thorn, I'm not going to be mad if you don't sleep here anymore," I laugh, but he only slightly chuckles. That wasn't all.

"But I don't want to leave you, either," he says quietly. My heart catapults into overdrive as I realize what he's going to ask. I gulp loudly.

"Thorn…" I trail off, unsure what to say.

"Just let me get it out. I want to wake up beside you like this everyday. Please, move in with me. I'll take you here whenever you want to, I promise. I need this, every day, every morning, and every night," he grazes my face gently with his knuckles. I am at a loss for words, because he's said the most romantic things to me tonight. Usually we're both so light and joking, which is perfect. But this was all so much more deep than I was ever expecting. And before I can overthink, my brain and heart sync up and whisper three little words into my conscience.

 _I love him._

"Yes."


	26. Chapter 26

_Thorn's POV_

It was hard to keep a smile off my face all morning. I felt like I was grinning ear to ear ever since she said yes. But she wanted to keep it a secret until after our trip, so Barney wouldn't think it was too soon.

"What are you grinning about?" she asks coyly from the bed, smiling sleepily. I turn from her mirror, looking back at her. She must've woken up shortly after I got out of the shower. And now I could tell she was enjoying the view. But so was I.

Her tan legs were woven through the sheets, and they went all the way up to her hips that were barely covered by the sheet. A pillow covered her torso but she held it tightly to her. She was hiding her body from me. I grin, and saunter over to her.

"What are you hiding from?" I tease and snatch the pillow from her torso, and she gasps.

"I asked you a question first!" she squeals as I drop cold droplets of water on her bare skin from my hair. I grab her and pull her up to my body, surprising her when I pull her face to mine aggressively. My lips meet hers and the same electricity I've come to know so well whenever she's touching me. I pull her bottom lip between my teeth and lightly run my tongue against the soft curve of her lip. She mewls quietly.

"Because you agreed to move in with me," I murmur hoarsely, trying to suppress the sudden tangible urge to make love to her again. She grins, kissing up my jaw, and begins to suck and bite at the skin on my neck. I groan.

"Brenna, unless you want me to throw you on that bed and fuck you, I suggest you stop," I say through gritted teeth. Her head whips back, shocked by my vulgarity. And suddenly, a giggle ripples through her. A hand flies to her mouth as she tries to suppress it, but it fails horribly. I'm amused at her trying to keep a straight face, but I back her up against the wall and trap her there. The humor on her face vanishes as the chemistry works it's magic.

"Not so funny?" I whisper into her ear, not touching her on purpose. She gulps.

"I was laughing at your eloquence," she stammers, giving me an explanation. I grin against her ear, my lips just lightly touching her earlobe. She sucks in a sharp breath at the smallest touch and I can tell my tactic of no touching was working.

"What? Missing something?" I ask, my lips connecting with the skin on her collarbone now. She bites her lip attractively, and I can tell it's a sign of how I was making her nervous.

"Are you playing with me?" she narrows her eyes slightly, understanding my games now. My grin turns wolffish.

"Do you not want to play along?" I murmur against her neck.

"We need to get downstairs soon-"

"And all you can think about right now is how much you want me to touch you," I hover my hand at her breasts, and she looks from my hand to my face several times waiting for me to touch her. Instead, I move my hand back to the wall behind her, keeping her trapped. She lets out a small huff of disappointment.

"Cocky son of a bitch," she mutters. I chuckle.

"Is it cocky? I just call it attraction," I pull her earlobe between my teeth and her knees quiver.

"What attraction?" she asks dreamily, not really wanting an answer.

"Don't play dumb just because you want me to keep talking. You like the way I make you nervous. No one else can make your knees shake like I can, no one ever has," I grin down at her. She shoves her small chin out in defiance.

"Maybe someone else has," she counters. Ah, the jealousy route. I try to ignore the unwelcome image of David in my mind, I'm sure she didn't mean it that way. But regardless, her tactic has worked. I shove my lips onto her and she squeaks in surprise. She grabs my face, pulling me to her body. I finally touch her skin and it feels almost like a tension rod has snapped clean in two. I shove her onto the bed lightly, eager to help her remove any memory of anyone ever kissing her.

"So, has someone ever kissed you like this?" I ask, running my tongue along hers as I claim her mouth. She gasps.

"No," she whispers hoarsely.

"Didn't think so. Like I said, it's you and me baby. The way I make your skin tingle like a million nerves going off when I touch you, the bellyache you feel when I'm pressed against you, the way your breathing comes short and shallow when I whisper in your ear. I make you nervous. And you like it," I clamp down on her bottom lip and she thrusts her hips forward in response. I notice now that I've gone too far and she's _barely_ breathing. I laugh quietly.

"I didn't say you _stopped_ breathing," I tease her. She lets out a shaky breath, smiling nervously.

"Ok fine, you make me nervous. But you don't have any self control around me," she grins at me cockily. Ah, she's detecting my weaknesses around her as well. But instead of putting up a show like she did, I'm lost in her gorgeous green eyes. How at any moment, for the rest of my life, I could risk never looking into them again. It makes everything I feel for this woman so much more intense. Like the sun and stars won't burn as bright without her under them.

"No, I don't. But only because I love you so much," I admit quietly. Her face goes from teasing to serious, and she caresses my face softly. The gentle gestures she gave were always my favorite. Like taking my hand, leaning into me, resting a head on my shoulder. It made me feel worthy of her.

"You don't have to have self control around me. I love you, for you. And about the whole, kissing other guys comment, I know you probably thought for a second I meant David-"

"I did, briefly. But I realized just as quick that you didn't. And I think the fact that you already forgot that he may me a sensitive topic suggest who's winning," I say smugly. She laughs.

"It's not a competition when you've already won," she smiles sweetly at me. Her words are perfectly what I wanted to hear and I pull her into my arms gently, so I don't hurt her healing wounds.

"What do I win?" I tease. But she stays smiling.

"All of me, any day, any night. I'm your girl," she sighs, wrapping her arms around me. She basically just said she'd given her heart to me, and I smile softly into her hair.

"Don't worry, your heart is safe with me," I pull away, looking into her eyes. A hard thing to do when she's naked. She sighs happily, snuggling deeper into my embrace. A knock at the door startles her.

"Brenna? Are you awake?" Barney yells. Brenna rolls her eyes and panics.

"Yes, I am! Sorry, just a little slow this morning," she yells to him, launching out of bed and toward her closet. I chuckle quietly so I'm not busted, though I'm sure he already knows.

"Well get it moving!" he yells back.

"Can we move in together next week?" she hisses under her breath while she stumbles around her room getting her clothes on. I laugh. She looked funny wearing an oversized hoodie and no panties. She fumbled with them for a moment before I took them from her. I kneeled in front of her, helping her step into them, and then slowly brought them up her legs. My lips trailed upwards as well, and her legs shook in response as she used my shoulders to steady herself. Once they were up, I kissed the curve of her hip bones tenderly. She gasped, and I took the band of her panties in my teeth, and snapped it back onto her skin. She yelps.

"Ow!" she giggles, swatting me away. I swat her right back, with a loud smack on her ass. She jumps and whirls around, red-faced.

"What? He said hurry up. So hurry up," I tease. She shakes her head in disbelief, scoffing.

"What has gotten into you today," she mutters to herself, though she knows the answer.

"I'll be downstairs," I say as I head out the door, pinching her butt as I was passed. She jumps again, and gets red in the face once more. She rolls her eyes, her mouth open, completely stunned. I grin, idea in mind, and grab her face roughly. I shove my lips onto hers, my tongue invading her sweet mouth, and she responds by doing the same. I growl and bite down on her lip, and she moans quietly.

"Wha-"

"You're completely irresistible, I'll never get enough of you. I'll finish you later," my hands pressed into the divets of her hip bones and she leans forward in need. She shoves me away, glaring.

"That was rude," she mutters, turning her back to me. I press my lower half against her ass and she gasps.

"I can be ruder," I graze my teeth against the flesh of her neck, and she whimpers and leans against me.

"Stop," she begs, though by the tone of her voice, she wants the exact opposite.

"Brenna!" Barney roars. She jumps.

"Coming!"

She glares at me as she slides on her jeans and heads down stairs. I grin at the back of her frame as I follow.

I'm looking forward to her being around all the time, but if this is any indication of how our days will start, we'll never be able to leave the bedroom. I'm not sure I would let her.

Fine by me.

 _Brenna's POV_

I was riding shotgun as Barney drove _my_ Jeep that he got for my birthday. I'd made a few comments that I wasn't allowed to drive it even though it was mine, and Barney just glared at me. I didn't blame him though. Between breaking, the accelerator, and the clutch, my leg would be screaming before we even got there.

My morning started off great, a little too great, I would have to deal with an eccentric boyfriend of mine later. But now all I could think about was Dennis. Betrayal and anger steamed out of every pore of my body. It made me nervous, being this angry. Last time I was… well… I was drugged and I shot someone.

"You won't be in any of the action. No reason to be nervous," Barney suddenly says, gesturing toward my bouncing leg in humor. I laugh dryly.

"I'm more angry than anything. And concerned about… well…"

"Your anger?" he asks quietly. Luna and Thorn were asleep in the back, the people I'd chosen to ride with us. Everyone else was in a van that Christmas was driving behind us.

"Yes," I say quietly. That, and a few other things.

"And about what your role is in this?" he guesses. I sigh.

"I must be an open book anymore," I huff, a little frustrated I was so easy to read. Barney scoffs.

"You are my kid, you know. And I'm no stranger to internal conflicts," he gruffs. I sigh and swallow my pride.

"Then what do I do?" I ask, and he hesitates.

"I don't think I've ever heard you ask for help," he murmurs.

"I'm testing new waters," I say sarcastically, and he laughs.

"Well, what do you want to do?" he asks. I look away sharply, avoiding his eyes. I knew what my _heart_ wanted to do. The same heart that lost her mom so long ago still beat slowly inside me. Sure, I'd come to terms with it, but I'd come to terms with the pain. I'd never let her go, and I've realized now that I don't have to. But the man responsible for the mess we're in, or at least a contributing factor anyway, was still alive. And I would never much like him dead.

"You want him dead, but you don't know if you could do it," he guesses again. But this time he was wrong.

"No. I know I could do it," I mutter silently, looking at the hands knotted in my lap. Barney's hands flex across the steering wheel. I sigh. "And that's my problem. You don't want me to."

"That I don't want my daughter to become a cold blooded killer like me?" he snaps coolly.

"You're gonna break my steering wheel," I mutter to distract him.

"Brenna, I'm not joking. You can be in the room when we interrogate him but I want you gone when we decide what to do with him."

"Oh, cut the shit. You're going to kill him anyway," I growl. Barney growls back, frustrated.

"Brenna-"

"Can we just not fight about this? It's already a shitty situation, and I'd rather you guys go in there with a clear head. One less thing to worry about," I mutter. Barney's head snaps to me, but I don't look at him. In fact I turn away and look out the window.

"Brenna… is that what this is about? You're worried?" he asks. I sigh.

"That's _one_ worry. There are a lot of outcomes of this day… none of them are really good," I confess.

"I really don't want you to start worrying all the time," Barney sighs. My mouth twitches in annoyance.

"You could retire," I mutter. Barney gives me a look and I know I have my answer. I shake my head, annoyed, keeping my eyes out my window. It stays quiet the rest of the ride. Barney has gone into brooding mode. And I've completely regretted testing new waters.

"Okay, gear up, cabin is just through that forest there," Barney gestures through the woods, where we've based and made a plan. Or rather, they've planned. I was purposely given other tasks that would keep me away from it all. It didn't work.

"Brenna, I want you waiting in the clearing. Gunnar, you stay with her."

"What!?" Gunnar and I both yell.

"You're assigning me a babysitter?" I demand. Everyone has gone from serious and businesslike to amused and teasing.

"Gunnar is great with kids, don't worry!" Christmas teases. Gunnar glares at him.

"I think I'd be better in this. Have her boyfriend stay with her," Gunnar offers, moody. Great, now I was a problem. I square my shoulders and stand taller. I wasn't going to take this.

"I'm not a fucking child, and I'm not a goddamn problem that needs taken care of. If you didn't want me here, you should've fucking figured that out before you let me come," I slam my hand down on the roof of the Jeep and everyone jumps. Barney glares at me, than suddenly smirks.

"Fine. You can stay here by yourself," everyone whips their heads to him in shock. I'm sure my expression looks the same, but I don't question. I nod at him slightly and turn back to my Jeep.

Toll Road and Mars approach finally in an off road utility vehicle, far more advanced than my Jeep.

"Is that necessary?" Barney asks dryly. Toll Road shrugs giddily.

"I've been dying to bright this baby out forever," he pats the hood like a boy who's proud of his toys.

"We won't even need it," Christmas says. Toll Road shrugs.

"Brenna, would you help Smilee and Luna unload the van please, since they're taking their sweet ass time," Barney glares at them, and Smilee flips him off.

"Do cripples get paid, or am I a volunteer service?" I ask coyly, defending Smilee and Luna. They snicker and Barney glares.

"Watch it," he warns as I walk past him.

"Just saying. Apparently I'm just here to look pretty anyway," I sigh. Thorn whistles at me in agreeance and Barney looks like he's about to gag. When he turns away I look at Thorn and wink, making him grin.

"If you want, we can all turn our backs while you two get busy," Gunnar mutters. I snort.

"Why, forget how it works?" I ask. Everyone, even Barney, laughs.

"Okay, gross, that's my daughter. Back to work," he says a little more seriously with a disgusted look on his face. Gunnar sends me a faux glare and I wink at him too. He cracks a smile and rolls his eyes.

"Ok we're rolling out in ten. Get your shit," Barney calls out a while later. I approach him.

"Do I get to know the plan?" I ask.

"Wait here, when we clear the building and get to Dennis, I'll send someone back for you," he says simply. I purse my lips, annoyed.

"No, _your_ plan."

"Doesn't concern you."

"Dad!" I complain. He snorts.

"That's an order, kid."

"And if something goes wrong-"

"It won't."

"But if it does?" I demand. He sighs, finally turning to me.

"Wait for two hours past the second you can see us in the woods anymore. If no one comes back for you, I want you to leave."

"What!?"

"Brenna, I want you far away if something goes wrong."

"No. No way. There's gotta be someone I can call. Tool maybe-"

"There's nothin you could do. Except leave. And get far away, quickly. But you won't need to, because nothing will go wrong," he says confidently.

"Dad…"

"I won't lose you again." His quiet admission stuns me to silence.

"Okay," I say, just to appease him. He nods, turning back to his blueprints.

"How many men do you think..?"

"Somewhere between 10-30. Probably all in hiding."

"Why not just bomb the place. They're all Church's guys in hiding right?" I ask. Barney laughs.

"We're on US soil. Maybe overseas that would work, but if we bombed a building on US soil, there's no way Drummer would be able to save our asses on that one," he explains. I nod, understanding.

"We'll be fine, kid," he mutters. I nod and head off to find Thorn before they leave.

"Looking for someone?" I hear him behind me, and gropes me from behind. I laugh and turn.

"Maybe your sense of dignity. Seriously, Barney will shoot you," I hiss. He rolls his eyes and pulls me into a long kiss.

"Knock it off!" I hear a distant voice shout and I know it's Barney watching from somewhere. I giggle.

"See?" I say.

"I can't wait to have you all to myself," Thorn sighs, grinning. I tuck my head under his chin and sigh.

"Be careful," I ask quietly. He grips me tightly for a second and let's me go.

"I will be. Don't worry," he says a little more seriously.

"Did I tell you that Lace and I set a date finally?" Christmas says eagerly behind me.

"He's been telling everyone but what he fails to realize is, we don't care," Thorn gibes. I elbow him in the gut.

"Stop being rude. That's great, Lee. She seems great, I'm sorry I didn't speak with her more at the party," I offer. He waves it off.

"She probably would like to talk to you sometime, I think she has questions about what we do, but she's a little less involved than you are," he shyly asks. I grin.

"Is she going to ask me to be a bridesmaid?" I ask. Christmas shrugs coyly.

"You didn't hear it from me. I told her once that I consider you my niece, and since I don't have any living family left, she thought it was important to have a member of the groom's family on her bridesmaids council. Something about it being good luck. I'm sure she'll call you," he sighs, but I can tell he's thrilled. But I'm grinning for another reason.

"You consider me your niece?" I tease. Christmas shoves my arm playfully.

"Don't make me regret it. And do me a favor?" he asks. I nod. "Try not to… get killed anymore?"

"I was never _actually_ dead-"

"I know but… you didn't see Barney. Both times. Actually, any time you were unconscious or gone to any aspect."

His serious tone catches me off guard, so I just nod again. He nods back, and soon, everyone is gearing up and heading out.

"This is your walkie, and this is your gun," Barney hands me a satellite phone and a pistol of some kind. I grin.

"Cool," I say giddily and he presses his lips together unhappily.

"Don't make me regret giving it to you," he sighs, aggravated. I shrug.

"You said this was an in and out thing. Don't make me regret trusting you," I give him a warning look and he nods but avoids my eyes. _What was that about?_

Soon I was alone, standing outside my Jeep with the cool air whipping around me. It was early March, so it was beginning to warm back up thankfully. But it was still a little cool out. It was completely quiet out in the trees, I didn't hear a thing. No gunshots, no explosions. Which was good I guess. This was a stealth mission. But they could also be too far away.

I was alone in the clearing of trees where we all met up, and the rustling of leaves in the wind made the scene eerie. I stepped forward, looking around. I felt like someone was watching me. Leaves whipped around my boots and crunches under my feet. A twig snaps in the bushes behind me. I draw my gun.

"Who's there?" I shout steadily. They couldn't be back already, it had only been about thirty minutes.

The wind responds by howling around me, drowning out any noise an approaching threat might have. I walk carefully around the Jeep, gun still at the ready.

A bunny emerges from the bushes, and I jump.

"Oh, it's just you. Well you aren't going to eat me, are you?" I kneel down next to it, trying to coax it to come over. But she scurries off just as quickly as she came. I sigh.

"I didn't want to be your friend anyway," I mutter, betrayed. I was bored out of my mind. I leaned against my Jeep once more. I wasn't going to contact them until my two hours were up. I didn't want to distract them. But I still figured it would've heard from them by now.

Another hour passes, and I'm officially worried beyond crazy. I'm pacing back and forth in front of my Jeep. I'd tucked the pistol back into my jeans, but I had it ready to go just in case. Barney was nuts if he thought I was going to just leave them here if something went wrong.

The last thirty minutes pass, and I'm in despair.

"Ok… ok, ok ok. What are you gonna do, Brenna? Are you gonna run? No, you're not gonna run. Who can you call for help?" I browse through the phone that Barney had gotten me while I was in the hospital and none of it mattered. I had no service out here. "Fuck, are you kidding me?" I sigh, stomping my boot on the ground. I pull the walkie in.

"Where are you guys?" I say into it. A get a static response.

"Barney, where are you?" I hiss, trying once more. I purposely don't call him Dad, worse case scenario, someone had the walkie. And they don't need to know I'm here. But it didn't matter. Static.

My heart races, adrenaline coursing through my veins. My family was in there. The man I loved. My own blood, friends, everyone I cared for. If no one could help me, I would help myself.

I get in my Jeep, fearful but determined. I try to start the car, but the battery falters. No. No no no no. This is a _new_ Jeep. Why is the battery dead. I look at the dash warning light.

 _Spark plugs?_

 _Barney unhooked my spark plugs._

"That bastard!" I slam down on the steering wheel, throwing myself out of the car. My boots half in the mud when my eyes land on Toll Road's utility vehicle. It was meant for military usage, and there's no way I knew how to drive it. But I was damn well going to try.

I was pissed. Supposed something _is_ wrong? Barney wanted me to run. How was I supposed to run, if he did this? He's in _so_ much trouble when I see him next. He promised no more lies.

I get in the utility vehicle and I'm immediately overwhelmed. But thankfully, there's keys in the ignition.

"Ok, Brenna. You can do this. You're not a coward," I start the engine and it roars to life. It was intimidating, but I could do it.

I tried for what seemed like too long to go forward, turn, anything. And eventually, it lurches forward with speed. I yelp in surprise and head for the trees with speed.

"Okay, it's just like off-road trails. But with no trail. And there's probably men with guns who will kill you on the other side," I calm myself, unsuccessfully. I speed over creeks and downed trees, and between large trees and bushes. Eventually, I see a large cabin ahead. It was surrounded by a wooden wall. I stop the vehicle and get out. It was dead silent. There were bodies outside the wall, no doubt the teams doing. That's a good sign. I picked up one of their machine guns. It worked the same way as the one I had in Luanda. Which was good. I creeped around the wall as quickly and quietly as I could. There was a large open space between the wall and the cabin. I gulped and crouched at the opening.

Anyone could have eyes on me. I was stupid for being here. But I didn't see the teams bodies anywhere. Just random dead guys. I looked everywhere, and I didn't see a soul in sight. So I ran for it. When I reach the cabin, I stop, stepping slowly onto the wood. The door was kicked down, and there were more bodies inside. The rifle was at my shoulder, checking my corners and behind me. I was no novice to this, and unfortunately, I had Church to thank for his combat training. Something I doubt Barney really knew.

I hear shouting, down the stairs to my left. I check behind me once more and head down them with a feathery foot. I don't make a sound, I barely breathe.

When I reach the bottom, it's almost pitch black. It was a huge warehouse set up with supplies and armories to feed and fuel an entire army. No wonder this was a safe house. I was in the darkness, unseen by anyone. I creep around the shadows, until I'm mortified by what I see.

The entire team is cuffed and on their knees with men behind them. They have guns to their head. And walking in front of them in Dennis. Rage fuels my adrenaline, but it doesn't cloud my judgement. It only clears my head, allows me to think. I thanked the divine powers that I miraculously could control the rage I was tortured into embracing. I blamed the adrenaline. I continue to creep around until I could hear Dennis.

"I'll ask one last time, where is she?!" he roars. I see Barney in the center, the bag removed from his face. It was bloodied and punched until it was blue. I nearly gasp.

"Go to hell," he spats. A man behind Barney raises his gun, and before I can stop myself, a shot rings out from mine. The man behind him drops dead. The teams shoulders sag, as they probably think Barney is dead. But he and the other men whip their head around incredulously. I change locations quickly so I can't be detected. They'd probably go for the lights soon, or find me with thermal radiation.

"Who else is here?" Dennis demands. It was weird seeing him this angry or in this world. It only pissed me off further that he lied.

"No one, this isn't us," Barney says, and he sounds just as surprised as Dennis does. He doesn't think it's me. Which is shocking.

 _God, Brenna, think. What would Barney do? What would your dad do to save you?_

I look around wildly for divine inspiration. Then I see the electrical box. I open fire on it and the lights go out, clouding us in darkness. There's only the light that Dennis has behind him, an interrogation light, that somehow still works. Must be a different outlet.

That would buy me a minute or two at the most, until they had thermals on. Barney's voice appears in my head, calming me.

 _Okay, you're in the dark. No eyes on. What's your next move?_

"Rotation and disorientation," I whisper silently to myself. I drop my walkie behind Dennis's feet, swiftly moving again behind cover. I check my surroundings, and since my eyes were a little accustomed to the dark, I make my way behind Dennis.

 _Who's your back up, kid? Who's watching your six?_

I weave between between the armed men, grabbing one of their knives. I shove it through their chest without thinking. I grab the first team member on the ground by the arm and haul them to their feet. I remove the knife and the man falls to the ground dead.

"Where are you?" Dennis roars, now fearful.

"We've got thermals underway, it'll be only a minute more," a man says. I run behind cover, with whoever I grabbed in tow behind me. I pull the bag off their head. It was Caesar. When he sees me, he's both bewildered, relieved, and then angry.

"Are you insane? They will kill yo-"

"And they'll do it a lot faster if you don't help me. You want to live? Watch my six and follow my lead," I grab his walkie and back up into the shadows.

"Who are you?" Dennis yells. The fact that he had no idea who may be coming after him enraged me. He probably hasn't thought twice about me or my mother since he took his paycheck for handing me over. Something clicks off, like a light switch inside me, and I turn pitch black.

"Let's play a game called, "ring around the rosy"," I say into the Caesar walkie. Dennis jumps as he hears my voice behind him, but it's just my satellite phone. He opens fire behind him, and I open fire on his men. His shots drown out mine.

"Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies," I run around the circle quietly, counting the men I had left. Out of ten, there were six. Dennis whirls around to see that two more men were dead. He's confused and disoriented.

"Brenna, I'm sorry I lied to you, just wait-"

"Now, I actually forget how the nursery rhyme goes. My mother used to sing it to me," I growl vengefully into the walkie. Caesar looks at me as if I've lost my mind, and I think I have.

"Brenna I didn't kill your mother," he says, going counter clockwise to the rotations I was walking in.

"We've got thermals!" A man shouts, and I throw the knife I collected. It lands through his temple and he falls to the ground. Dennis almost gasps.

"I see you've refined some self defense skills since you've been with Barney," he comments dryly. But it only enrages me further.

"No, your pal Church taught me these moves," I slip behind another man and take out his ankles. He falls to the ground and I shoot him point blank. I feel the blood splatter on me and I know I'm a mess, but I can't stop now. Caesar takes out a man on my six, from his vantage point after he took the thermal goggles from one of the dead men.

"And the feeling of taking a life? How's the turning over in your head?" He tries to worm his way into my head, and I look to where I think Caesar is and nod. He takes out the rest of the men. And then I step forward. The light illuminates my body and I can see the blood I have on me, and how scary I actually look. Good.

Even Dennis steps back.

"You're barking up the wrong tree," I raise my gun and Barney jumps up.

"Brenna, what the fuck-"

"When I want you to talk, I'll say when you can FUCKING talk," I roar at him, feeling betrayed once more by his attempts to keep me "safe". He halts in his tracks, gulping. He knows what state of mind I'm currently in.

"Brenna, please, I'm sorry. Just put the gun down-"

"I said shut up!" I scream, backing away from him.

"I didn't want to be involved in this! I didn't know his plans with you!" Dennis wailed, trying to save his skin. I grab him by the neck, my hand clutching around his throat, and throw him to the ground which strength even impressive for me.

"Brenna…" Barney pleads behind me, frozen to spot.

"Did you give my mother that option? What about me? Did you think twice about the lives you ruined when you cashed that check?" I scream, driving my boot into his ribs. He screams as I hear his ribs make a sickening crunch.

"Did you sip pina coladas on the beach somewhere while I was tortured every day for two months? While I was drugged? What flavor were they?" I roar, kicking him with every sentence I finished. He was coughing up blood.

"Brenna, stop, that's enough. He gets it," Barney chokes, seeming both concerned and mortified. I continue to ignore him.

"What flavor were they, your drinks? I bet they were expensive. Almost as expensive as the price you pay when you watch someone die. When you watch people get starved, tortured, or operated on," I continue to punch and kick him around. He's barely breathing when he puts a hand up.

"P-please," he begs, blood pooling from his mouth. And suddenly, I'm catapulted back into sanity.

I look at the helpless man in front of me, dying from his wounds that I've inflicted. I look around at all the dead men, and the blood I'm now covered with. The team has removed their bonds and bags from their heads and is looking at me, frozen to spot. Their eyes show a mix of pity and being completely mortified by my actions. I look back to my fists and hands which were now covered in both my blood and others. I'd split open my knuckles on his face. I raise my gun shakily, my hand shaking.

"This is the monster you created, Dennis. This is what you did. I'm glad you got to see it out of its cage," I cocked the gun, pointing it to his head. He looks into my eyes, pleading.

"I never meant to do this to you," he says one last time. He was in so much pain, and at the point, it was the moral thing to do.

"I'm sure you didn't. But there's a price to pay when you make the Faustian deal" I say, my voice a monotone void. Dennis gulps.

"You're not an executioner, Brenna. You're good," he chokes over his blood.

"No. I'm a nightmare," I pull the trigger and Dennis slumps over, dead. I sniffle, and I didn't realize I was crying so hard. My throat was hoarse and sore like hell. I was so gone… I even scared myself. I was afraid to turn around and look into Barney's eyes. I was so ashamed. I feel someone put a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"Brenna…" it was Barney. And for some reason, I'm only angry with his presence. This wouldn't have happened had he just left my Jeep alone. I wouldn't have been so worked up to begin with. I shrug off his hand and whirl around.

"You lied to me!" is all I manage. My throat was too sore. I wasn't aware of how loud I was screaming.

"I'm sorry-"

"You promised you wouldn't anymore," I sob. I felt so lost, more than I ever have. How many people did I just kill? Five? Six? It didn't matter. It didn't bother me when I killed Church, because I did it to save a friend. I killed these men, brutally, because I could. I beat someone within an inch of his life. Because I could. This wasn't me. I wasn't a monster like this.

This what Church put inside me. I grip my temple, trying to claw out the demons that he put in my head. I sob once more.

"Brenna?" Barney asks.

"Why is it so dark?" I ask hoarsely. Barney looks around, bewildered.

"You shot the lights…" he explains. I shake my head.

"No, no my head. It's pitch black. There's no windows. I can't breathe. Why is it so cold," I despair with a shaking voice. I shake my head over and over, clutching my head as I try to shake out the demons. There's no light, no sun to burn them in. Barney suddenly lurches forward, taking my face in his hands.

"Brenna, look at me. This isn't you. You can't give in. You have to let yourself feel all of the emotions you just caused. Do _not_ shut down. Do you understand? Do _NOT_ push away all of these feelings. If you want to be angry with me, fine. If you want to be remorseful, feel it. Don't lock it out," he begs. I shake my head.

"I can't," I whimper, my heart hurting beyond all measure. If I felt everything I was feeling, if I let it all in, I'm not sure I would ever stop crying. It was easier to shut the door to my soul.

"Brenna, you said it yourself. Your loyalty, it's what made you human. You saved our lives. You came after us, you exceeded all expectations, and now you've saved our lives. You saved my life. You saved Thorns. You're a good person," he shakes my head as he talks. My head snaps up to his, and I meet his eyes. He nods. "That's it. Let it in," he encourages.

I look around at all the dead bodies and collapse to my knees, weeping inconsolably. Barney joins me, arms wrapped around me, and I lean into him. I hated him so much right now, but the only reason I was so angry was that he promised he'd come back okay. I only freaked out because they were in danger.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I cry, not sure who I was apologizing to. Barney shakes his head.

"It's not your fault. You did what you had to. It's okay," he soothes. He nods towards the team and they begin to file out except Thorn. He kneels in front of me. I wait for him to say it's over, or that I was nothing like the girl he wanted. He caresses my face softly.

"You'll always be my girl. Nothing you do will change that," he says, as if detecting what I'm thinking. I close my eyes and lean into his hand. Barney releases me and Thorn replaces his arms. He helps me to my feet.

"I'm so proud of you. You're so strong," he murmurs in my hair. My sobs begin to ease as he comforts me, and I allow myself to completely succumb to the heart-wrenching grief I feel. He rubs my shoulder soothingly and I wrap my arms around his shoulders tightly.

"I'll uh… be upstairs," Barney whispers after he realizes Thorn was who I needed more.

 _Thorn's POV_

"Are you ready to go back yet?" I ask her gently. I managed to coax her upstairs but she reached the outside air and sunk to her knees slowly, and hasn't moved since. She was obviously deep in shock. The guys were waiting by the utility vehicle on the other side of the wall.

Brenna stayed staring straight ahead, not moving or responding in any way.

"Sweetheart, I need you to look at me. They were _bad men._ Drug lords, murderers, rapists, you name it. They worked for Church. They weren't good," I tell her. She looks up finally. She shrugs.

"It's not my place," she chokes.

"What isn't?" I ask, not sure what she means.

"I'm no God. I don't decide who lives and dies, doesn't matter how bad they were. It's not my place. And in any case, it's not killing them that bothers me. It's how I did it. It wasn't for anyone but myself. And the way I… killed Dennis. It wasn't even human. I completely shut down. It was like I became a different person."

I sigh.

"Can I be honest with you?" I ask her. She shrugs, looking worried. I wish she would believe that I'm not going to leave her.

"I'm not worried about any of this. I think that every son of a bitch down there deserved it. They killed hundreds of innocent people. Tortured them. While they made their loved ones watch. Raped women; mothers, and children. Brenna, you killed terrible, awful men. And even if for whatever reason you can't accept that, I understand why you did what you did. I would've snapped too," I explain to her. Her head snaps up.

"No you don't understand-"

"I don't think you do, Brenna. You didn't kill those men because Church is in your head. You killed them because they were five seconds away from killing the only people that mattered to you. You've said yourself that if you lost us, you'd be alone. You know how that feels, because you spent two months thinking no one cared about you and gave a damn. You'd do anything to keep from feeling that amount of loneliness again. That switch you felt kick off? That wasn't a light in your soul going dark. That was your pure, unadulterated instinct to fight like hell to save the people you love. You've never moved so fast, never were so agile, or light-footed. That wasn't combat training with Church. That was the adrenaline the courses through your veins when you needed it to. When you were scared, because I know you were, what did you do? What did you think about? It wasn't Church and his training. It was Barney, it was your father that appeared in your head. Telling you what to do. Keeping you level and calm. The same way you always are in any situation you need to be. Because regardless of what the others think, this shit is written in your DNA. It's in your blood, this is who you are. Killing people, no. But protecting the people you love by any means necessary? Hell yes. Think about it. It's how you've always been, going back to that day with Wiley. You have both your mother and father in you. You're your father's daughter. A fighter and incredibly strong and stubborn woman. You're your mother's daughter. Kind, loyal, and caring. That's who you are. Not whatever you think Church made you into," I shake her shoulders as I talk, and she slowly composed herself as I do because she realizes I'm right. Her eyes stop leaking tears, her sobs cease, and she takes a deep steadying breath while closing her eyes.

"And more importantly, you're the woman I love unconditionally. And thank you for saving our skin," I tell her, placing a finger under her chin. She opens her eyes finally, and she looks clearer and calmer.

"I love you too. Thank you," she throws her arms around me and I pull her once more to her feet. I start to walk with her but her leg falters. _Shit, her stitches._

"Brenna-"

"It's okay, they aren't pulled. I just did way too much for one day," she says, putting an arm around me for support. She was covered in blood still, and I wanted to help her wash it off.

"I want you to come to my place tonight," I tell her. She whips her head to me.

"I-I've never seem your place," she stutters. I laugh.

"You may want to if you're going to live there," I joke. She laughs, a real one, and nods.

"Good luck convincing Barney," she rasps, her voice still damaged.

Barney rounds the corner on cue.

"Brenna, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have lied to you and tried to keep-"

She throws her arms around him, gripping him tightly.

"If you _ever_ try to lie to me again, that's it. No second chance. You're lucky I'm a capable woman. Otherwise I wouldn't have gotten here in time," she comments, releasing him. He's stunned to silence.

"I suppose that's true… are… are you alright?" he asks warily. She takes my hand.

"Yes," she says simply, and I know I got through to her. I try to hide my smile, but I know I can't. She walks passed him and gets in the back of the utility vehicle. Everyone watches her, but she holds her head up high.

"What did you say to her?" Barney demands. I sigh.

"You misinterpreted her feelings. It's okay, so did she. Yes, she's upset about killing people. But her soul was never in danger. All this time you've been worried that she has too much of a mix between you and her mother. In reality, it's just enough. She'd do anything to protect her loved ones. She'd die herself, jump in front of a train if it meant saving our skin. That's all that was. She wasn't traumatized, she didn't flip a switch and become a cold blooded killer. Adrenaline took over and she did what she had it do to save us. I'm glad she did," I explain. Barney stays stunned.

"It's just that… every time I think she'll be okay, she's either in the hospital or has a mental breakdown," he mutters. I frown.

"You underestimate her. She's not a child," I growl, stomping off toward the vehicle. When she eventually came back from being in shock, Barney was going to have to answer to hell fire.


	27. Chapter 27

_Brenna's POV_

"You _lied_ to me. _Again!"_ I roar, while Barney sits at his usual poker table in Tools garage. It was the afternoon that we got back from the safe house. Barney had ordered everyone home for a long rest, so it was just him and I. Thorn offered to stay but I told him that I needed to let myself get over what happened. It was a quick process, especially after what he told me. I almost smile at the memory, because he knows me better than I know myself.

"Technically it wasn't a 'lie'. I took out your spark plugs," he mutters, almost childlike.

"Barney," I growl through my teeth.

"Hey, what happened to Dad?" he complains. I glare at him, pacing back and forth. He was trying to make me laugh, and it wasn't working. He takes a puff of his cigar and sighs. "Will you sit down, please?"

Tool walks in and halts in his tracks. I point back to where he came from.

"Back," I gumble simply. He was startled by my appearance, still covered in blood.

"Did you wrestle a bleeding pig?" he chokes, not used to seeing me this messy. I sigh.

"No," I hiss through my teeth. Tool raises his hands as a sign of defeat and backs away, leaving the room.

"Brenna, I'm sorry, okay? I'm really, really sorry. I shouldn't have messed with your Jeep-"

"Oh shut up, that's not why I'm mad," I laugh without humor, continuing to pace. My hands were on my hips as I tried to steady my annoyances.

"Care to sit and explain?" Barney gestures toward the chair once more, trying to get me to sit.

"For starters, you said after _two hours_ to leave. Even if for whatever reason I listened to you, I wouldn't have been able to run. I would've been a sitting duck. You put me in danger," I stop pacing and look at him, a little hurt. His face remains perfectly stoic, but his shoulders hunch, ashamed.

"I hadn't thought of it like that," he admits. I was shocked he even admits to it. But I don't let it derail me.

"And THEN, you _promised_ me it was an in and out thing, no more than twenty or thirty guys. I counted at least fifty bodies on the way in. And THEN, you promised you'd be safe and when I get there, you've got three seconds before your face is completely blown off-"

"Brenna, sit down!" he yells at me, and I huff and slump into a chair ungracefully. I cross my arms, glaring at him.

"I put you in danger, and I underestimated the amount of guys. I didn't lie to you on purpose. That's why we were taken. It really was supposed to be an in and out thing. We weren't aware it was an underground warehouse. I'm sorry," he apologizes. I jerk my chin to the side, unsure if I should forgive him for the Jeep. So I stay silent.

"I fixed your Jeep," he offers, in an attempt to placate me. I whip my head back to him.

"You're the one who broke it," I mutter. He sighs, laughing slightly.

"Yea I suppose that doesn't help my case," he sighs. I sit up straighter.

"This. This is why I'm pushing at you to retire," I put my forehead into my hand, rubbing it tenderly. Barney takes a puff of his cigar.

"Kid, just don't go down that road. It's not happening," he says. I'm starting to remember why my mother thought he was a pain in the ass.

"So what? You just stay in this business until one day it kills you?" I ask, bewildered. I'd meant it as an exaggeration, but he doesn't answer. I stand once more. "Oh my god. That's it, isn't it? You don't want to die, warm and safe at home. You'd rather die getting shot or stabbed somewhere cold and alone. Why are you so self-destructive?" I demand.

"I've told you before. I've got a black heart," he mutters. I shake my head.

"I don't believe that for a second. You've seen and lived through some fucked up shit. But that doesn't mean your heart is black. It's damaged," I argue. Barney puts his cigar in the ashtray.

"I'm not trying to be selfish with you, kid. But I think the sooner you realize how my future plays out, the easier it will be for you when it happens," he warns. I blink at him.

"And my option of retirement is… what? Not the macho thing to do? Doesn't allow you to die with honor? You're a mercenary. Not an ancient warrior," I choke, shocked that he's being this dark. But he looks away.

"Just let it go," he sighs, a little sad. I shake my head.

"And that's how you see your future? No other alternative?" I ask, and he says nothing. I shake my head, tears starting to roll down my face. He was my only living relative, my own father, and he was telling me he couldn't let this life go to live longer. He couldn't let himself just be my dad while he was still here. I grit my teeth.

"If that's how your future pans out in your head, I'm not going to watch," I sob, headed for the parlor door. Barney stands, following me.

"Brenna, don't be upset-"

"Why would I be upset? The only family member I have left in this world just admitted that he's going to die at some point, basically due to his pride, a very horrible death. And that I'm supposed to just deal with it. So no, I'm not upset. I'm protecting myself. Goodbyes are something I've been known to shut down after, and I'm not letting myself go down that road again," I grab the keys for my Jeep and walk out into the street.

"Don't go, Brenna. Please," he asks quietly. I stop in front of my Jeep, but don't turn to him. "The last time we fought and you walked out like this, I didn't see you for two months," he chokes with anxiety. I shake my head.

"I know how this ends. I'm not sticking around for it," I climb into my Jeep, and without a second glance, pull out into traffic.

I call Thorn from the road, but he doesn't answer. Probably asleep. I don't have his address to get to his place, so I just drive. I hiss at my stupidity when I see I'm still covered in blood. So I can't go do anything. I call Reagan.

"How did it go today?" she asks. I sigh. "Uh oh, are you okay? Want me to come over?" she asks.

"No. I need a place to shower. Where are you?" I ask.

"Um… at John's. Why can't you shower at your place? Or Thorn's?" she asks. She clearly doesn't want me with her and Smilee.

"Long story. Barney and I fought. I'll try calling Thorn," I say.

"Well you can come over-"

"I don't want all that blood in my shower!" Smilee yells in the background. He's joking of course, but Reagan gasps. _Shit._

"Are you okay? What happened?" she demands. Ugh, I'm so not in the mood for this.

"Reagan, Thorn is calling me back. Have Smilee, I mean John, tell you what happened," I say and hang up. I pull into a parking lot behind an old coffee shop on a rougher side of town. I recline my seat, thanking god that my windows were tinted, and slowly drift off to sleep.

When I woke it was dark outside, actually it was one _AM_. _Shit._ I check my phone, and I have seven missed calls from Thorn, ten from Reagan, and eleven from Tools Parlor. Probably Barney or Tool. Or both. And then a plethora of texts.

 **Hey, I just got your call. What's up?**

 **Where are you?**

 **Reagan just called. Said you were upset with Barney? Call me.**

 **Seriously babe, where are you? Everyone is freaking out.**

 **Barney is going to kill someone. Where. Are. You. This isn't funny.**

And then the ones from Reagan:

 **If you don't fucking answer your phone, I'm going to kill you.**

 **I know you're upset, and you're probably a little freaked. I would be too. But going into hiding isn't going to help.**

 **Brenna. I swear to god. Answer your phone.**

And then the one from Barney.

 **We need to talk. Come home.**

 _Shit._ I felt so bad. I hadn't meant to be away this long, I just fell asleep. After a long day like today, or yesterday, and having killed so many people…

I whipped off my black shirt and had my black tank top underneath that wasn't covered in blood. I use the shirt to scrub off some of the dried blood, and it flakes to the floor. I nearly gag.

"Ugh, disgusting," I mutter. My jeans were covered in blood and that wasn't changing. But I put back on my jacket and put my hair up into a ponytail, and I looked halfway decent. I start up my Jeep, and my headlights illuminate a man closely following a young woman down an alley. My heart begins to race. _Oh no._

I open my glove box and thankfully the gun was still there. I put it in my jeans, launching myself out of the car. I follow the duo into the alley, but I don't see them. At the end of the alley, it opens up into a street with limited light access. I pull my gun to my side, walking cautiously along the road. Suddenly, someone comes up behind me with a knife.

"Alright sweetheart, just give me your cash and wallet-" I cut whoever the man is off mid sentence by defecting his knife and delivering a knee to his groin. I grab his hair and drive his nose into my knee, kick the back of his leg so he falls to the ground, and then roundhouse kick his head into the dumpster behind me. Effectively knocking him out.

"Dude, I'm so not in the mood today," I growl as he groans on the ground, and slumps over completely unconscious. I continue to walk down the street, gun in hand, trying to find the young woman and the man who was following her, since that didn't look like him. My boots pattering on the wet sidewalk was making too much noise. I stop moving.

I hear muffled screaming, across the street. I race across into the alley I think it's coming from, and I see the man has pinned the woman. Attempting to rape her. I draw my gun.

"Get away from her," I yell, and he spins around, stunned.

"The cops should know better than to be in this part of town," he hisses, producing his own gun. _What?_ He thought I was a cop? I realize now my comfort with the gun probably made it seem like I was a cop. The woman scurries out from under him, backing away, but she had nowhere to run. He looks at her.

"Don't move," he warns, and pulls the trigger. I duck out of the way, rolling behind a trash can. A stinging sensation lets me know I've been hit, and I curse. Right in the shoulder, above the bone. Blood, lots of it, pours out.

"Fuck!" I hiss, looking toward the heavens. I ignore the pain and wound, but the man has approached my side. He grabs my arm roughly and drags me upright.

"You're not a cop are you? Just some vigilant citizen that thinks she's what? Some kind of badass because she has a gun?" he growls. I twist out of his grip and kick his gun from his hand. I draw mine but he delivers a kick to my stomach that sends me backwards and I drop my gun. I land in front of the woman.

"Run!" I hiss quietly, and tackle the man to the ground. She runs passed me and down the street, and when I see she's safely away, I turn my attention back to getting out of this alive. He throws me into the dumpster and I feel the metal slice into my head. I get up quickly despite the sticky feeling of blood trickling down my head.

"I'll give it to ya kid, you can take an ass-beating," he gloats. I grin.

"Nah, that was me stalling so your prey could get away," I spat. He looks around and realizes she's run off, and he gets angry. Really angry. I deflect his blows easier now, and kick my gun up to my hand. I strike him across the head, knocking him out. And then I take two seconds, to think about what was better for the world.

* * *

"Thank you for calling this in. I don't suppose you saw the woman he was after? So we can check on her?" the policemen asks.

"No, I'm sorry. I told her to run," I tell him as he takes my statement. He nods, though he's smiling.

"Well, again, I'll have to thank you. We've been tracking this man forever. Do you want a ride to the hospital?" he gestures to my head. I had refused paramedics until the police took my statement so I wouldn't have to deal with them later. I managed to drag the assailant back to my car and tend to my gunshot wound, so it wouldn't be bleeding as obviously when I called the police. Doc would have to look at the wound more seriously. My reflection was atrocious. The cut on my head wasn't deep, but head wounds always bleed so damn much. Barney was going to freak.

"No, thank you. I've examined it. And I've got a doctor friend. He'll look at it and tell me exactly what I think. It's a scratch. Head wounds bleed a lot," I shrug. The policeman looks wary but doesn't say anything.

"And the blood on your pants?"

"It's mine. But like I said, I'm okay," I say nonchalantly. Like I need the police digging around in my life. He's pulled away to talk to his partner, and soon I'm released.

"Miss Ross?" I hear someone behind me. I turn, a little shocked to hear my change name out loud, and it's another policeman. He's a younger officer, and looks a little anxious.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Journalists are here. They want to take your statement," he gestures toward the cameras. I halt, and realize they were live. _Shit. If anyone sees them, I'm busted._ Barney really needs to hear from me what happened, not some news source. I shake my head.

"I'm not interested in gaining any fame from this. Just say I'm some unnamed savior in the right place at the right time. I've got to get back to my family," I sigh, and he nods, understanding.

"I get that. Make sure you get back safely," he walks me back to my Jeep and flags me through the police cars, crowd, and news vans that had gathered.

I park outside the garage, stalling my entrance. There's no doubt that Thorn has been scouring the facial recognition software for my face, and the news probably caught my face. They all probably know. I get out of the Jeep and my knees give out, and I sink to the ground. I look at my hands and realize how hard they're shaking and how pale my skin is. Shit, I'm bleeding too much. I check my wound, bullet still lodged within, and use my drivers side door to pull myself back to my feet. I shakily use various objects to make my to the door, and I open it with a deep breath.

Everyone, the entire team, was in the lounge area across from the kitchen, watching the TV and the news relay from what happened tonight. Title reads, "Unnamed woman fights off known rapist, saves another from doomed fate." My blurry face is plastered across the screen. But when I enter, everyone whirls around.

"To be fair, that sounds way more dramatic than it actually was," I raise my hands defensively. But when I do, I hiss in pain and clutch my shoulder. Everyone just stares at me, probably stunned by my appearance. Then, chaos erupts with, unshockingly, Reagan's voice.

"What the _fuck_ , Brenna?" she roars. I sigh. Everyone takes their turns berating me, telling me I'm an idiot, and that it could have been so much worse.

"Okay, enough! He was going to rape her, and I wasn't about to let that happen. There's already too much I can't control these days," I snap at them, vehemence clear in my voice. It stuns them to silence.

"That's why you engaged? Because you were upset about our fight?! Do you have any idea how _stupid_ that is?" Barney says behind me. I hadn't noticed he wasn't in the room.

"Believe it or not, it wasn't on my mind when I saw a young woman about my age nearly get raped," I say under my breath. I wasn't about to talk to him about this again in front of everyone.

"I understand why you did what you did. But I think you were upset about our fight and-"

"Oh, get over yourself! It wasn't fucking about that- ah!" I hiss, clutching my shoulder as I whirl around to confront him. Barney halts in his tirade, freezing.

"What really happened tonight?" he asks quietly, looking at my shoulder I was clutching.

"Nothing. Just a scuffle," I mutter. He laughs bitterly.

"Yes, that head-wound looks like a pretty typical scuffle. Let me see your damn shoulder," he grabs my jacket collar and pulls down the side. His eyes widen when he sees the gunshot wound.

"Doc," is all he manages when fury and rage sweep across his face. Doc launches up from his spot, with a questionable expression in his face. He examines the wound.

"Fucking hell, kid. Does your luck ever improve?" he looks at me, bewildered. Thorn rises from his spot on the couch, and I can tell he's just as angry.

"I was waiting for Thorn to call me back. I fell asleep in my Jeep. I woke up about an hour ago and saw the man stalking the young woman. That's all," I sigh, explaining myself so no one thought I was searching for trouble.

"And you just also happened to get your ass kicked and shot?" Barney scoffs, still extremely angry. I glare at him, a real one.

"Believe it or not, I'm not that self-destructive," I hiss, and he glares back at me. He know exactly what I am getting at. He's likely never been this upset with me, but I didn't care. Everyone held their breath as they waited for him to respond and scream in my face. Instead, he stands and storms off.

"What happened between you two?" Christmas asks.

"Nothing," I snap. I nod toward Doc, who tends to my wounds.

I was extremely lucky. My shoulder was a through and through shot, just above the old stitches. And I only needed two. My head scratch was just that, a scratch. As I thought. But what I really wanted was just a goddamn shower. And I didn't want it here.

"Alright, you're all set. I'd recommend a shower of some kind, and you're good to go," Doc pats my shoulder, giving me a sympathetic smile. Christmas approaches, pulling me into a quick sideways hug.

"What did I say about pulling this shit?" he asks. I sigh.

"I know. I'm sorry. But I swear, I wasn't looking for trouble," I apologize now that I've calmed down.

"We know. But it was still extremely reckless," Luna puts a gentle hand on my other shoulder. I smile at her.

"So what happened that made you run out?" Tool asks. I sigh, shaking my head.

"Talk to the man upstairs. Right now I just want to shower. But not here," I mutter. Thorn approaches.

"I'll take you to my place," he mutters grumpily. He was still mad at me.

"Kid, wait. I'm sure he'll want to talk to you when he's calmed down," Christmas tries, but I stop him.

"Wouldn't be interested even if he did," I mutter, walking out the door after Thorn.

The car ride was silent, and Thorn wouldn't talk to me. I tried many times, even apologizing, and he would either nod or ignore me. When we get to his apartment building in the business district, he helps me out of the car. We get inside the giant building and into the elevator. He presses an unmarked button above the twentieth floor and inserts a key. He must live in a penthouse.

"Are you ever going to talk to me?" I ask, peaking up at him. He grits his teeth, leans across me, and emergency stops the elevator. He turns to me and backs me up against the elevator walls, trapping me. Then his lips are on mine.

The passion and need that was always in our kisses was somehow magnified, as he sucked and bit at my lips. It was aggressive, which was only sexier, and he grasped my waist so I had no space between our bodies. He pulls back roughly while I'm still dazed, and starts the elevator again. I'm breathless and stunned still when we get to the top.

The doors slide open and I'm transported to modern beauty. I'm in the foyer of his penthouse, and he leads me away from the elevator by the waist. He gives me a quick tour, it was a flat penthouse. Fireplace in the center, lounge surrounded it. Kitchen down the hall and to the right, and it was also sleek and modern. An office space was across the hall from the kitchen, and at the end was the bedroom. A giant king size bed with silver sheets was in the center, and it looked cozy.

"Like the place?" he asks. It's the first words he's said to me since I got back.

"I love it. But we need to talk-"

"We don't. I understand why you did what you did. But you need to tell me what happened between you and Barney, so I can get a clearer picture," he gestures to the lounge and lights a fire. Then he comes back with a glass of scotch. I take it gratefully with a bitter laugh. I begin to tell him Barney's intentions with his career and Thorn sighs.

"I see why you were upset. I'm sorry," he pulls me into his lap gently, knowing I was sore. I frown.

"You… you don't have the same state of mind… right?" I ask. Thorn scoffs.

"I'm not that selfish. And before you ask, I'll retire someday. I don't have a ridiculous amount of pride. Believe it or not, I actually do like this job," he says. I roll my eyes.

"Stupid adrenaline junkie," I mutter. He laughs and rubs my back.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer the phone tonight. This all could have been avoided-"

"It's not your fault, not by a long shot. And that man would still be out there if it weren't for me," I tell him to ease his mind. He smiles and caresses my face gently.

"I was _so mad_ at you. But I've said it once and I'll say it again. You're the strongest person I know. And now you can add the bravest to that as well," he kisses me softly.

"Alright. Let's get you a bath."

It had been three weeks since the incident. All of my stitches were finally out, and I felt worlds better that I could finally stretch and move the way I wanted to. Thorn and I were set to leave for Italy in a week. But I hadn't been back to the parlor. And Barney hadn't called.

"You should really come with me tonight. I'm sure he still wants you around," Thorn tried to get me to leave his apartment. Though it wasn't official, I had basically moved in with him. Barney and the gang had gone on a job a week or two back and Reagan helped me move my clothes and what I needed to Thorns place. I only did it after I realized Barney wasn't going to call since he stormed off. I hadn't seen him since.

"No. Besides, this is a merc-thing. You guys go to Rusty's after every job, and it'd be weird if I was there. I'm thinking about going out with Reagan tonight anyway, now that I can move the way I want to," I tell him from the couch where I was reading. Thorn grins.

"So, does that mean you're going dancing?" he teases. I close my book and smirk at him.

"Maybe. Why?" I ask coyly.

"I don't know, maybe imagining you in some tight, short dress has me excited," he tackles me back to the couch and pins me there. I laugh freely.

"Or maybe I don't want anyone to see you looking that sexy," he growls in my ear, nipping at my skin with his teeth. I giggle. It had been hard to leave the bedroom and couch since I had unofficially moved in. He usually couldn't keep his hands to himself. Not that I mind.

"Behave!" I buck him off me and he laughs.

"Alright, I'm leaving. I wish you'd call him though-"

"Have a good night!" I interrupt him sweetly, and he rolls his eyes with a smile and walks out the door. I pick up my phone and dial Reagan's number.

"You read my mind. Guys are gone. Girls night. You don't have stitches, you don't have pain meds, let's just shitfaced," she answers immediately. I laugh.

"Be over in fifteen and I'll call us a cab," I tell her and then hang up. I dressed up a little bit more than usual too, which Reagan would appreciate. Because I really did want to party a little, in celebration of being completely healed since… well, since everything. I put on my torn black jeans, a red, backless velvet tank top that was definitely meant for occasions such as this, and Reagan's studded black heels that I've had since god only knows when. Not that I needed the heels, I was already really tall. I piled my hair into a curly, loose ponytail and added a splash of makeup to my face. Admittedly, I liked the way I looked. And when Reagan arrived, so did she.

"Damn, who are you impressing?" she whistles. I laugh.

"I need to blow off some steam. You ready?" I ask her. She holds up her finger.

"One good luck shot of Irishman's peppermint vodka, as our usual good luck pre-game shot!"

I'd forgotten about our ritualistic pre-game shot of lucky vodka. It had been so so long since we went out like this. And once it was down, we hailed a cab and she gave him the address.

"You better not be taking me to Rusty's," I glare at her. She scoffs.

"I would love to see you and Barney talk things out, but I'd rather see you get shitfaced. Drunk Brenna isn't as broody as sober Brenna," she grins. I laugh, nodding in agreement. The cab stops eventually outside some night club, with awful music pumping through the speakers. I give a look to Reagan.

"I know, it's cliche. But it's where she wanted to meet you," she grins suddenly, gesturing outside my door. I get out, looking around.

"Who?" I ask.

"Me," a familiar Luandan accent says behind me. I whirl around and Mirembe is standing behind me. I squeal, a rather girly gesture coming from me, and pull her into my arms roughly.

"Oh my fucking god! When did you get back? What happened? Why were you gone so long?" I demand but I'm smiling widely. She laughs.

"One thing at a time. Drummer helped me obtain citizenship, for a few favors. Relax, they weren't merc jobs. He wanted David and I to give him all we know on Church's operation. So we were under his wing for the last month or so while he derailed the rest of what Church started," she explains. I look around wildly.

"Is David here?" I ask nervously. I didn't really want him here, not because I was upset with him, but because I wasn't sure if he'd be expecting someone who still loved him. Because I didn't, everything I felt was for Thorn now.

"Nah, he still had to take care of his sister and get his affairs in order. Drummer needed him to take care of Church before he allowed him to go running off. But anyway, enough of that. Let's get drunk, Arvelo!" she links arms with me, and Reagan links my other arm.

"It's Ross now," I tell her, but I'm a little upset when I bring that up because it only reminds me of Barney. She grins and nods, understanding. But then I take a deep breath and let them guide me into the club.

Several hours and many several drinks later, we were leaving the club. I check my watch and it's almost closing time anyway. So I guess it wasn't several hours, it was many, many hours. My feet throbbed, I couldn't walk in a straight line, and Reagan was the only sober one which was rare. But she has a better tolerance.

"I don't wanna walk. Look at these shoes," I pout at her when she says she wants to walk back.

"Look, coming from someone who knows, if either of you get into a car right now, you'll puke. Besides, I warned you against the heels," she teases. I look at Mira.

"Can you believe this party pooper? I'm not even sick!" I throw my arms out in front of my wildly, and Reagan laughs.

"Oh honey, you will be," she sighs, putting an arm around me. Suddenly, I gasp.

"We… we should go get food. I'm starving. I want shawarma," I point down the street as if it's right in front of me. Mira points down the street as well.

"Shawarma!" We both chant until Reagan gives in. And ten minutes of walking later, we're eating shawarma.

"I'm going to have so much fun reminding you guys that this was your idea when you get to see what that looks like coming back up tomorrow morning," she gloats.

"Excuse you, twenty four hour shawarma is the only food on the damn planet that can't look worse when it comes back up as it does when it goes in," I tell her. I raise my hand to get the owners attention, the owner I befriended when I walked in.

"Isn't that right, Blanket?!" I yell to him. He laughs and holds his thumb up.

"Why is his name Blanket again?" Mira slurs. I put a hand on her shoulder, gesturing to the establishment in front of me.

"Because he looked super comforting and inviting when we came in and this place is like, amazing. Like a blanket," I explain and Mira nods. Reagan busts out laughing.

"Okay, So! What next?" I ask Reagan. She looks at me, exasperated.

"It's like, 1 AM. Only places that would still be open is down by the French Quarter-"

"Let's go!" Mira stand swiftly, striking a Wonder Woman pose. I do the same.

"-by Rusty's. I don't want to ruin your night by having you accidentally run into someone drunk," she warns. I point to the door.

"To the French quarter!" I yell, charging the door. Reagan groans and follows.

We get there and I'm sure my feet are bleeding. I stop one of the many touristy street vendors that's selling oversized, funny looking animal feet for my feet.

"How much?" I yell a little too loudly. He laughs and tells me, and I give him the money gratefully. And then I remove my heels and replace them with giant bear feet.

"And this is why I love this city," I point to my feet, while holding my heels. Mira and Reagan are nearly on the floor laughing so hard at me, while I try to walk with oversized feet

"Brenna, you're going to fall!" Reagan wheezes. I stop, whirling around.

"I'd rather fall in these than in these," I throw my heels up, gesturing to them. We walk down bourbon street, where tourists are drunk off their asses and live music plays everywhere. We dance when we want to and soon, even Mira is crashing.

"Can we please go back home now?" Reagan begs, her voice hoarse from the drinking and screaming. We were sitting on the side of a street corner, on a clean part of the sidewalk. I sigh, still very much drunk, but my friends needed rest.

"Fiiiiiiiiiine," I whine. She laughs and rises, helping Mira up. I start to cross the street without them when I'm almost run over by a swarm of people on a motorcycles. I fall backwards and they stop.

"Hey, watch it you fucking morons!" I shout. Reagan and Mira are laughing again. I whirl around before I see who they are.

"What?" I yell.

"You-you're trying to sound tough while wearing giant bear feet!" They explode into a fit of laughter, and I join them, laughing uncontrollably.

"Brenna?" I hear a familiar voice say behind me. I turn slowly, and it's Barney. He's looking at me weirdly. And I realize how ridiculous I look now. So it's hard to take this situation seriously.

"Hey-o, Dadd-io. I'm jussa lil drunk, so this reunion of feely shit will have to wait for anotha time," I slur, patting his shoulder and rejoining my friends. He's smirking, out of humor thankfully, but I can see in his eyes that he's worried.

"I'm the sober one, don't worry. She's been fine all night," Reagan says.

"Hey, if I needed a babysitter, prolly shouldn't be drinkin. But I'm fine. And I had shawarma, and I did cartwheels in four inch heels. Dude, look at these! They're insane, man!" I investigate my heels with humor, pointing to them and wheezing with laughter.

"It's true, she did six cartwheels down the club floor and got a free daiquiri," Mira backs me up. I high five my new best wingwoman.

"Did she just call you dude?" Gunnar asks with humor to Barney.

"Yea, I think she did. Brenna, how much did you drink?" he asks.

"Six shots, two beers, one whiskey, and a daiquiri. She has the tolerance of a drunken sailor. Always has," Reagan shakes her head at me and I grin proudly, placing my hands on my hips.

"Holy fucking shit, kid. What, are you a secret alcoholic?" Christmas snorts, amused.

"She needs to get home," Barney eyes me warily while I stumble and struggle to stand still. The world was starting to spin.

"I'm good! Iz all good," I give him two thumbs up.

"It's not all good, you're gonna be dead tomorrow," Caesar laughs. Toll Road nods in agreement. I wave him off, and then suddenly, despair hits me.

"Oh fuck! No! Oh my god, I'm an idiot!" I smack my forehead, feeling like an asshole. Mira and Reagan jump.

"What? Did you forget something somewhere?" they ask.

"We didn't ask Blanket for water cups! How are we gonna play cup phone now?" I ask, and Mira's face falls. Reagan rolls her eyes. Everyone else just looks confused.

"Ok, I'm sure it'll fine sweety. You need to rest now, okay?" she places her hands on my shoulders but I frown.

"No, we have to go back!" I start in the direction I think is right and Mira follows. Reagan grabs my arms, hauling me to her side.

"Hey, no no no no. We're going home remember?"

"I have cups you can play cup phone with, Brenna," Thorn says, thoroughly amused. I grin when I see him.

"Heeyyy baby, how was your night?" I sling an arm around him, being cheesy. He laughs, putting an arm around my waist to steady my wavering body.

"Clearly not as good as yours. You have fun?" he asks with a grin. I nod goofily and he laughs, kissing my forehead.

"I'm gonna make the best cup phone, ever," I tell him, before the world starts to really spin. He laughs but looks a little worried.

"Okay, can we focus on getting you home first?" he asks. I shrug, and then my legs give out and I crumple to the ground at his side. And that's all I remember before things go black.

I woke up with a horrible, wretched sickness that I've never felt before. It was dark in my room and I could tell the hangover was a murderer. And then I freeze.

 _My room?_

I was back in Tool's garage, which meant Barney was lurking nearby.

 _Probably planning his own suicide_.

I'm surprised by the dark turn of thoughts so quickly, and I reel it in a little more. I tiptoed to the toilet where I heaved last nights shawarma adventure into the toilet bowl.

"Last time you puked in that toilet, you had a concussion. This time, you're just hungover. We're making progress," I hear Barney say behind me, laughing. I put my head in my hand, refusing to look at him.

"Can you not, please? I'm already miserable," I mumble. He sighs.

"Brenna, we need to talk," he says.

"Can we please just delay it until it doesn't sound like you're screaming? It's not like it's exactly been rushed anyway," I spat at him. He stays silent, and then I hear him start to leave.

"I'll… wait till your feeling better then," he says awkwardly. I keep my eyes shut and give him a thumbs up from the bathroom floor. He chuckles slightly, and hesitates.

"I… I missed you, Bren," he mutters, and walks out. When I'm sure he's gone, I feel a tear slide down my cheek. Of course I missed him, but he really hurt me when we were last together. I couldn't stick around knowing he was just planning on doing this job until it killed him. It would kill me.

I continued to puke for god only knows how long until it turned into dry heaving. _Shit, this wasn't good._ I needed help, I needed my inhaler. But Doc wasn't here. I didn't know what to do. I looked around wildly, scared.

"Dad!" I croak weakly, my own voice throbs in my head. But nobody came. I sobbed, scared as my asthma began to squeeze my chest.

"Dad! Help me!" I screamed louder, and I hear feet pounding on the metal stairs.

"Brenna?!" I hear him shout, and then he runs into the bathroom. He kneels in front of me, sitting me upright.

"Asthma?" he asks. I nod, unable to speak since puking made my throat hoarse. He produces an inhaler from his back pocket.

"H-how…?"

"I remembered the last time you were sick, and how you needed it. I wasn't sure how sick you would be today so I asked Doc for it before he left last night. Here," he uncapped it and hands it to me. I take two grateful puffs and close my eyes as I try to regulate my breathing. Barney gets a cold washcloth and presses it to my forehead gently.

"So next time, maybe don't go as hard with the liquor?" he suggests, amused. I scoff, also humored.

"If I ever drink again," I mutter. Barney chuckles quietly.

"Come on, let's get you back in bed where it's dark. I'll get you some water," he helps me back up, and guides me back to the bed. Then he returns with water, which I sip gratefully.

"So, hangover aside, did you at least have fun?" he asks hopefully. I smile, remembering that Mira came back.

"A lot," I grin, remembering bits and pieces of my night. Barney relaxes, relieved and happy.

"Good," he exhales, and I realize he's been on edge since he asked me about last night. I sit up more.

"Why?" I ask.

"No reason, just checking," he says simply, getting up. I grab his hand, stopping him.

"You say that like you knew I was going out… and you didn't seem surprised to see Mira. Did you set that up?" I ask. He sighs.

"I asked Drummer to fly her down here. He was going to wait until next week, but you'd be gone by then. So he rushed it, got her papers and an identity," he says. I'm taken aback by his kind gesture.

"Thank you," I say, astounded and genuinely grateful. He shrugs.

"No big deal."

"No, but it is. It means a lot to me. Thank you," I say again. He smiles and nods, starting to leave the room. I sigh. "You could've called."

He stops in his tracks.

"I wasn't sure you would even pick up the phone. And at first, I had it in my head that you were right. Why would you want to stick around with the way things will end? And then time went on, you never came back, and I realized I caused you a lot of pain. I'm sorry, kid. Seems all I do is hurt you. And then when Thorn was able to help you after you killed those men and I wasn't, I felt weak and useless anyway. And, when you never came back after that night, it became very real that you were gone and I'd pushed you away," he sighs, taking a seat in one of my many bean bag chairs. I frown.

"I can't lie to you… you really did hurt my feelings. But honestly, how can you take back any of the things you said? That's the only thing that will make me feel better about all of this. You seemed pretty damn sure of your dismal future…"

"I know. And I'm sorry. It probably freaked you out. And I can't say that I could take back what I said, but… I don't know. I can't promise I'll retire any time soon," he sighs. So do I. We were stuck at an impasse. But then, sudden inspiration hits me. I sit up, and he looks at me questionably.

"What if we compromised?" I ask. He raises a brow.

"Uh… sure. Not sure how you compromise on something so complicated though," he says warily. I hold up a hand.

"I'll let the retirement thing go, _for now…"_

"Okay…?"

"But I want you to call someone for me," I grin, a little cocky. Barney looks almost scared at the tone of my voice, as he should be.

He comes back in fifteen minutes later, red in the face and embarrassed beyond all measure.

"Well?" I ask enthusiastically. He flops into a bean bag, grumping.

"I can't believe _that_ was your idea of a compromise," he grumbles. I wave a hand, ignoring him. But then he smiles slightly. "Friday at 7."

"Yes!" I exclaim, my head yelling at me for it. Barney rolls his eyes.

"Why?" he asks.

"Because I can't be the only woman in your life, and maybe I'm hoping she'll change your mind," I admit. He opens his mouth to argue but I put up a finger, silencing him.

"Was she excited?" I ask, remembering how red Abigail's face got when she saw Barney walk into the funeral parlor that day. And Barney doesn't show emotion often, with other people anyway, but he got a little stammery around her. So I knew the feelings were mutual.

"Surprised. She doesn't hear from me very often. Only when we lose someone," he sighs. But I'm still grinning.

"Does that mean you'll move back in then?" he asks. My face falls.

"Uh… I should probably tell you that Thorn asked me to move in with him… a while ago," I admit. Barney just glares.

"And you're just now saying this because?" he says evenly. I shrug coyly and his eyes narrow angrily. But he's still worried.

"I want to talk to him."

"Dad, no-"

"No arguments. You left out the bit of information on our compromise. You owe me," he warns, dialing Thorn's number. _Shit._

"And how long were you planning on keeping this a secret?" he roars, looking at me. I shrink in my seat. Partially from my headache. Thorn has accidentally gave away that he asked me to move in a _long_ while ago.

"Until we got back from our vacation," I whispered quietly, because I'm scared he's going to punch Thorn in the face.

"Barney-"

"Don't Barney me, kid. I'll get to you in a minute," he tells Thorn, who has the decency to look scared.

"Dad, why are you so mad? I'm twenty-one, I'm a grown woman, and I'm perfectly capable of making informed decisions on my own," I stand, placing my hands on my hips like I was an errant teenager. It was frustrating, and as far as lying goes, he had no room to talk. But let's not revive that buried grave.

"Because you were planning on lying to me about it! And what about rent? Or food?"

"Barney, I'm pretty sure I can handle the extra expenses," Thorn says dryly. Barney growls in his direction.

"Well, the offer still stands for her taking an apprenticeship here. And she has a Jeep to get her back and forth on her own. Hell, she's pretty set up, Barney," Tool says, smiling at me. I grin ear to ear, and then squash it down when Barney looks at me.

"And you're sure this is what you want? He's not… pressuring you, is he?" he asks uncomfortably. _Oh my god_. He thinks I'm pregnant? Fuck.

"What!? Dad, no!"

"Barney, no, it's not like that-"

"I'd rather hear it from her, if you don't mind," he snaps at Thorn.

"You're going to make me say it?" I exasperate, placing a hand over my eyes in embarrassment. The room had gone quiet with obvious amusement. They enjoyed watching me shrivel under the scrutinous light that was my own fathers interrogation. Traitors.

"No. I am not pregnant," I hissed, my face heating up incredibly from even talking about this. He relaxes.

"Good. Then I guess… this is alright," he calms down. I glare at him.

"Thanks for your permission," I snap, and he wisely holds his tongue _._

"Won't be long now!" Christmas says, grinning ear to ear about something. I look at him.

"Until what?" I narrow my eyes. Caesar and Toll Road snicker. "What?" I demand.

Gunnar starts humming the brides march and Smilee mimics wedding bells. My stomach drops and I gawk at them in embarrassment. Thorn does too.

"Shut up!" Thorn mutters, but his face is red. But he also looks a little guilty. _What does that mean? That he's thought about it?_

I hide my face in my hair, especially as I begin to realize that Thorn and I are definitely on the marriage route… and that I wouldn't mind getting there.


	28. Chapter 28

I couldn't keep my mind off of their teasing all day. _Marriage? Was I seriously considering marriage? I wanted that? Since when?_

A million questions went a million miles an hour in my head. I had grown quiet and brooding since the whole pregnant/marriage awkward session of the day. _God, what about kids?_

What if he wanted kids? Did I even want kids? I've never even put a thought toward the family route. Should I? Should I be asking Thorn these questions?

"Brenna!" I heard someone shout.

"Yea?" I snap out of it and look around. The room chuckles.

"I said, do you want to know what the date we set for the wedding is? We never talked much about it," Lee says. _God, why are weddings such an adamant part of my thoughts and conversation all of a sudden._ I panic.

"Sure!" I say a little too brightly. Everyone gives me a strange look.

"It's May 7th, the weekend after you get back from your trip. Lace is headed over here now, just warning you," he says. I nod. Thorn puts an arm around me, kissing me cheek. Then he puts his lips to my ear.

"We need to talk when you get away from her," he murmurs. Every hair on my body stands to attention and my heart begins to race uncontrollably.

"Yea no problem. I'm going to go upstairs and shower, try to get some of the hangover off my skin," I rise and eye Reagan meaningfully, who arrived a short while ago. She catches my eye and nods, knowing I need to talk to her. I dart upstairs, and a while later, she follows.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"I'm freaking out!" I hiss under my breath.

"Why… Brenna are you…?" she gasps. My eyes widen.

"No! Why does everyone keep assuming that!" I demand. She laughs, relieved.

"Because you live with your boyfriend in sin," she teases. I wave her off, pacing back and forth. "Seriously, what's wrong? You're worrying me."

"Okay, okay. Well a while ago, the guys were teasing Thorn and I. Talking about marriage and shit. And then Thorn got really embarrassed and guilty. Like he was thinking about it. And then I started to think about it. And now I can't stop thinking about it. And just now, after Lee brought up Lace and the wedding, I got a little panicky-"

"Blatantly obvious, but go on."

"- and Thorn said he wanted to talk to me alone when I got the chance," I finish. Reagan cracks a smile and then starts laughing uncontrollably.

"Honey, you've never had wedding fever?" she asks. I eye her suspiciously. She laughs. "It's when someone you know is getting married and it makes you crazy about weddings," she explains. I shake my head.

"No, this only happened within the last five minutes. I'm not crazy about weddings I'm just trying to figure out why I'm all of a sudden considering my future in a different way," I hiss under my breath. Reagan stops laughing, and takes my hands.

"Brenna. You _love_ Thorn. He loves you. You two have such high chemistry, and he completely adores you. There's a good chance you'll end up together. Of course you're considering your future a different way. Just let it happen," she advises.

"That's the best you can do?" I ask dryly. She laughs.

"There are no guarantees in this lifetime," she winks and leaves the room. I stand, stunned, and then quickly hop in the shower.

An hour later, I've been formally invited to be a bridesmaid at Lee and Lace's wedding.

"It's going to be a lot of fun, I promise. You don't have to worry about not being here for the planning, that's for the maid of honor. But you will be back in time for the bachelorette party, which is mandatory," she starts to babble on, and I try my best to seem excited and thrilled, which she thankfully buys. And I was excited for her, I just also was having a lot of internal turmoil about Thorn and I.

"So what do you think?" Lace asks, in regards to the location of the bachelorette party. _Oh shit, what was the second option? It was Vegas or…?_

"Um, I say Vegas," I tell her, because it's the only option I remember. And clearly it's the right one.

"Really? Oh my god, no one agreed with me. Atlantic City? Ugh. But Vegas feels so traditional and stupidly cliché, I just _have_ to go for it, ya know?" she babbles. She may be about ten years older than me, but she's very much my age. And soon, Lee goes home with her and I'm saved. I collapse onto the couch, burying my face into the pillow, and groan. Everyone laughs.

"Bit off more than you can chew?" Tool teases.

"Who plans a wedding in a month?" I mumble.

"Do you want to race them, see how much better you could do?" Gunnar teases.

"No!" I say sharply, and everyone gives me another weird look.

Later on at home, Thorn grabs my hand and spins me around. I squeal and laugh.

"Where do you think you're going?" he teases, unbuttoning my jeans already. I giggle, swatting him away.

"Stop that! I'm hungover and I'll puke on you," I laugh, hugging his waist. He laughs back, swinging me around.

"We need to go shopping tomorrow, you don't have any proper clothes or travel gear for where we're going," he grins, cupping my face gently. I grin ear to ear, bouncing up and down. He pins me against the kitchen counter.

"Excited?" he murmurs into my ear. I wrap my arms around his neck and jump on him, forcing him to grab my legs and hold me up. He laughs. "I'll take that as a yes," he gazes up at me as I'm secured around his waist, with eyes that can only be described as lovestruck.

"I love you," I murmur, nuzzling his jaw. He sets me down gently.

"I love you more… but we need to talk," he sighs, guiding me to the breakfast bar. I gulp, unsure of what this was about. He sits next to me and takes my hand.

"Am I in trouble?" I ask gently. He laughs.

"No. I just know that you've probably got questions about… well… about where we stand with the whole happily ever after thing," he says awkwardly. I shift in my seat uncomfortably.

"Look, I don't expect anything-"

"I want to marry you," he says suddenly, stunning me to silence all together. I freeze.

"Okay…" I lead, still unsure what to say. He laughs nervously.

"Relax, I'm not proposing. I'm just telling you. You're the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with and I'll propose to you someday when I think the time's right. I just wanted you to know," he smirks at my pale face.

"You can breathe now, you know," he teases, kissing my forehead. And then he walks off, presumably to shower. I stand, and walk over to the window. I lean against the frame, crossing my arms.

 _Could I really do that with him? I haven't even met his parents, what if they hate me? Or what if it didn't work out? He's a major part of my life, marriage or not. He works with my dad. Or what if I lost him on the job? Would I be able to cope?_

Questions upon questions popped in my head and I wasn't aware I was brooding for so long until a freshly showered and half naked Thorn walks back into the kitchen and towel-slaps my ass. Hard. I yelp, rubbing the attacked area.

"Stop thinking so much, it smells like smoke in here," he winks.

"Oh, ha-ha," I roll my eyes, and he charges at me. I run away, and get behind the other side of the breakfast bar. He narrows his eyes in challenge.

"Is this a game you're wanting to play? Because I will win," he saunters around the counter, and I rotate with his movements so he can't get me. He halts and changes direction abruptly, and I do the same. But then he practically leaps over the counter and I'm so surprised by his agility that I can't get out of the way in time. He captures me, and blows raspberries into my neck. I scream, shoving him away.

"What's this? Miss Brenna Ross is ticklish?" he starts to drive his fingers into my neck and armpits and I wiggle away.

"Stop that!" I breathe between laughs. And he does, but only to grasp my face in a long, breathless kiss.

"Don't overthink everything. It's just an idea," he says simply, leaning into my forehead. I close my eyes and lean back. He was right, I was thinking too much.

"Did Barney tell you he has a date on Friday?" I grin triumphantly. Thorn leans back immediately, completely flabbergasted.

"How the fuck did you manage that?" He chokes. I laugh.

"A small compromise in exchange of me not being mad anymore. What he fails to realize is that I'm still mad at him," I frown. Thorn laughs and pulls me into a hug.

"He was very proud of you that night though. You did the right thing with calling the police," he rubs my shoulder. I frown.

"How did he know I had another option?" I ask.

"He found the gun on the passenger side seat. For someone who was questioned by the police, you sure did a bad job hiding it away," he teases. I laugh.

"Yea, adrenaline I guess. I forgot," I shrug sheepishly.

"I want to cook you dinner," he murmurs, kissing my temple. I smile.

"Can you cook?" I tease, because I've been doing all the cooking. Not that I mind.

"I can work my way around a few good dishes. I'm not a pro like you," he schmoozes. I laugh.

"My mom was a great cook, I just paid attention," I sit down at the breakfast bar once more while he begins to cook.

"Excuse you, I want this to be a surprise. Go find something to do," he waves me off. I groan and leave the room.

When I walk out of the room, I get a call from Reagan.

"Well you were right, shawarma somehow manages to look worse coming up than going in," I laugh when I answer the phone.

"Brenna," she sobs, and I immediately tense.

"What's wrong?" I demand.

"I need you to come over to John's. He's at Tool's right now. I need a girlfriend," she cries. I reach for my coat immediately.

"Did he do something?" I hiss. I was going to kill him.

"No, I just need to tell you something," she whimpers.

"Okay, I'll be over soon."

I rush back into the kitchen.

"Thorn, I have to go. Can we take a rain check?" I ask. He frowns.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Reagan. She called me crying. She never really does that and she wants me to come over, so it's serious," I explain. Thorn turns off the stove

"Yea, yea sure. No problem. Should I go talk to Smilee or something?" He asks. I frown, because I wasn't sure.

"Hold off, I'll let you know. I'm sorry about dinner," I kiss his cheek and run out the door.

"Reagan?" I pound on her door, and eventually she opens. And she has a massive bruise on her cheek. I was going to kill Smilee.

"What the fuck-"

"It's not John. He doesn't know about this yet, he hasn't seen me. But he officially asked me to move in with him today after you and Thorn decided to," she says with forced cheerfulness.

"Okay…"

"So I went back home to box up all of my clothes and belongings. My dad was with Gabe and all their buddies. I started to pile my crap up in Smilee's car that he let me borrow. And my dad freaked out. Screaming about how I couldn't move out because if I did, he'd lost tax benefits and whatnot. Of course, I didn't care. But he threatened me. I told him to shove off, and well…" she was shaking still, this happened not that long ago. And I can infer what they did to her after that, based on the various bruises on her face and arms. Rage like no other boiled inside me. _You can fuck with me, you can try to fuck with my family, but you don't ever touch my sister._

"Have you told anyone else?" I say through teeth. She shakes her head.

"I need your help because Smilee is going to freak out and kill them-"

I laugh bitterly, interrupting her.

"I'm going to be doing that for him. Come on. I'm taking you to finish getting your stuff, and I'll make sure they don't bother you," I rise and help her up. She looks wary.

"Brenna, I don't need you to go in their guns blazing-"

"I'm not. Unless they try anything."

"What about your restraining order? Gabe will take your ass to court," she suggest.

"I'm not worried about it. He's broken that restraining order a few times himself," I mutter, though I was really unhappy to be going back to that neighborhood and reliving those memories.

"Are you sure you want to go in there with me? It'll only piss them off more," she warns quietly. I reach across her to my glove box and take out the gun. I'm surprised Barney left it there, but he probably did on purpose. In case I ever needed it. I smile warmly, because even now he's looking out for me.

"Brenna, don't bring a gun-"

"It's just a precaution," I strap it to my rib cage, so it's undetected. And then we get out of the car. Unease grips my stomach as we approach her house in the old neighborhood. Or I guess, her trailer. Then she keys in.

"If you fuckin think that I'm going to let you still-"

"Can it, Jason. I'm here to make sure she can leave this abusive setting and leave peacefully. Unless you want the cops here, I would suggest you shove it where the sun don't shine," I growl at him as I round the corner. Gabe stands, furious. He's gained weight, and looks like shit. Good.

"What the fuck, you can't be-"

"Judging by the look of my friend, you aren't in any FUCKING position to tell me what I can and cannot do. You let her get her shit, and we'll leave. Or, you can call the cops on me for violating a restraining order where I have evidence that you've done yourself, and you can have the cops sniffing around Reagan. And I'll have all the answers as to why she's sustained her injuries. So shut the fuck up," I seethe, irate. Gabe glares at me but sits back down slowly, rage steaming from his pores.

"Way to go, Jason. I told you that you shouldn't have touched her. Now we can let this little bitch walk all over us," one of the poker players say, but I ignore him. I start to walk Reagan back to her room.

"Not if I can help it," Jason says, and I feel a cord of some kind wrap around my neck.

"Brenna!" Reagan screams, and one of the men holds her back.

"Jesus Christ Jason, what are you doing? We'll never be able to hide this," Gabe yells in a cowardly way.

"You said yourself she's a nobody. Who will miss her?"

"What about Reagan?"

"I'll make her stay quiet," he hisses in her direction. My air was getting severely cut off as I try to fight off the man on my back. I let go of the cord and take out my gun. I shoot his foot and falls back, howling in pain. I fall to the ground gasping for air. Everyone takes a step back from me now that they realize I'm armed. I stand, taller than I ever have. _I'm not a nobody. I never was, and I'm sure as hell not now._

I whirl around, my rage making it seem like the air cracked around me. I raise my gun.

"Brenna," Reagan murmurs, warning me against this. And she was right, I don't need the legal battle right now. I holster the gun once more, which was a bad mistake.

"She can go to the cops with the fact that I had intent and Reagan's bruises. Why are you just standing there?" Jason howls. His goons, including Gabe, all come after me. But I'm a better fighter now.

I deflect one mans blows, shoving my elbow into his nose. I duck as Gabe swings a fat arm at me, and I grab it and twist until I hear a familiar snap.

"Now I've evened out both arms," I hiss, shoving him to the ground as he groans in pain. Another man, Andy I think, comes at me with a knife. I dodge his swipes, grab his wrist, and haul it over my shoulder. I punch his jaw with a left and right hook, and when he falls to his knees, I roundhouse kick his head into a class display case. Someone runs up behind me and tackles me to the floor, but I brace my legs out and throw him over my shoulder into the coffee table. It crumbles under the sudden force. I pick up a leg and swing it into his head. The man holding Reagan suddenly produces a gun.

"Stop! Put your gun on the ground and lay on the ground with your hands behind your head," he instructs, but his hand is shaking as he points it to Reagan. She doesn't dare move. I smirk. He wasn't faster, nor familiar, with a gun than I was.

"I said, get on the ground!" He roars and Reagan flinches. In a flash, I whip my gun around and pull the hammer back three times, and before the man can even think, he has three shots in the leg and he falls to the ground.

"Brenna, that was so fast-" Reagan begins to say, bewildered.

I turn, and grab Jason. I pick him up by the collar, and pin him against the wall.

"Now you're going to listen to me. She's getting her shit. She's moving out. She's going to live with a great boyfriend that _will fucking kill you_ if you cross any lines. But if for whatever reason he spares you, I will be there. If you so much as touch her again, if you go near her, if you ever _fucking think_ about trying anything, I will find you and I will make your life so much more miserable and pathetic than it already is," I pick a knife off the ground the man that was unconscious.

"Starting with filleting your limbs into _fucking dog food,_ " I roar, shoving the knife into the collar of his shirt and pinning him against the wall. He whimpers in fear, closing his eyes. When I turn around, Barney, Christmas, Smilee, Doc, and Thorn are here. They're looking all around the room that was now destroyed by various bodies. Reagan runs over to me, and grasps me in a large hug.

"Thank you," she whispers, hugging me tightly. Barney and I make eye contact over her shoulder, and he's both amused and obviously proud. Smilee however, was furious.

"Reagan, can I speak to you alone for a moment?" he says through his teeth. I grin. She was in so much trouble for not asking for his help. Come to think of it, why were they here?

"Thorn asked Smilee why Reagan was upset. Smilee didn't have clue what he was talking about, so he assumed something must've gone wrong here. We rushed back to his place but you guys were gone, so I figured you were here," Barney says, looking around the room still. The men that were conscious groaned in pain. Including Gabe. I gulp, because now he and Barney were in the same room.

"How long have you been standing there?" I ask. He smirks, though his eyes had obvious paternal pride.

"Long enough. Damn, kid. You really laid them out," he laughs.

"You should've seen how fast she was with the gun, she was all, bam bam bam-"

"Reagan," Smilee warns, insisting that they go talk alone somewhere. But he has amusement in his eyes as well, and relief. He was just worried about her. She detects this and walks into his arms, hugging him tightly. He and I make eye contact and I smile and nod at him, and he nods back.

"Thank you," he mouths. I give him a small thumbs up. I turn back to Barney.

"Will this be a problem?" I ask.

"It's going to be," Gabe groans, still furious and clutching his arm.

"Oh shove a sock in it, you pathetic mongrel," I growl. Barney looks at me, back at Gabe, and back at me. And then his eyes turn black as night as rage fuels a fire deep within his heart. He's made the connection.

"You must be Gabe. I'm Barney. Brenna's father," he introduces, and Gabe only looks scared and surprised for a second before Barney's punched him across the jaw. Hard. So hard I think it cracks his jaw. I cringe. But it doesn't knock him out.

"That's for _ever_ hurting my daughter, you miserable fucking waste of air," he roars, and then he picks up Gabe by the collar, and slams him into the wall.

"If you so much as even think about trying to hurt her again, I'll kill you. Slowly," he shouts vehemently. And then he drives another fist into his face.

"And this is for any grief, any pain, and any trauma you caused Sabrina," he hisses quietly, and breaks the other arm. Gabe crumples to the ground, finally passed out. He walks back over to me, still very much angry, and puts an arm around me protectively. I lean against him, happy he defended me.

"Did that feel good?" I ask, amused. He pauses to calm down, and then laughs.

"Very. I imagine it did for you as well," he gestures around the room. I shrug.

"I'm just glad I finally managed to walk away from something uninjured," I mutter. Doc frowns.

"From the look of the rope burn across your neck, I'd say otherwise," he commented. I glare at him as he rats me out. Barney whirls, and pulls down the collar of my leather jacket. He grits his teeth.

"Which one did it?" he hisses. I shake my head, afraid to even make a sound. Angry Barney was terrifying Barney, and I may put up a good show, but it still scared me. "Brenna!" he snaps. I point to Jason on the wall. He stalks over to Jason, who looks downright sick from being terrified, as he should be. Barney removes the knife from the wall and he falls to the ground. Barney picks him up by the throat, strangling him. It was uncomfortable to watch, I'd never seen Barney so angry or so violent. But I guess, this was his job.

And in a remarkable moment of clarity, I realize why he won't retire. It's not that he has a black heart and wants to die in the mud and blood. He goes on these missions all the time for his family, his team. To keep an eye on them, to protect them, to back them up. He just wants to be there to make sure everyone stays safe. And he probably doesn't even realize that's why. I smile warmly at him, even though he's currently strangling someone. It warms my heart to know this now, and maybe I can accept this a little easier. Knowing he wouldn't die in cold blood, but rather he was likely protecting someone he cared about, that I care about.

"Doesn't feel good does it? So why would you do it to a young lady who was trying to help her friend?" Barney demands eerily. I approach him and go to put a hand on his shoulder, but Lee puts a hand on mine and pulls me away.

"Trust me, let him finish. Are you okay?" he raises my chin and looks at my neck. I shrug.

"Doesn't hurt. We're good," I sigh, looking at Barney pummel this guy. If it wasn't a little dark, I would find it funny. Lee pulls me into an actual hug, and it shocks me.

"I just saw that look you gave Barney. Do you understand now… why he won't?"

I smile.

"Yes. Though I don't think he realizes why," I pull back and look at him. He nods.

"I thought so too. But I'm glad you understand now," he looks around the room with ill-concealed humor.

"You are your father's daughter," he laughs, shaking his head. I smile proudly.

"I'll second that," Thorn says, but he's glaring at the man that Barney is currently beating the crap out of. I laugh and sigh.

"Sorry honey, but I don't think you'll get a single punch in. He's in autopilot," I gesture to my irate father. And when he turns around, his fists look like mine. Bruised and bloodied. And the look on his face causes Thorn and Lee to scurry. I raise an eyebrow as he approaches my side once more.

"Feel better?" I ask.

"Strangling is probably the most painful way to die. And that fucker was going to put you through that. Thank fucking Christ you took the gun with you," he growls, gesturing to Jason's bleeding foot. He takes my hand and examines my knuckles.

"Does it hurt?" he gestures to my equally busted up knuckles. I shrug. "What about the neck? How long…?"

"Barney I don't want to worry you with details-"

"How long, Brenna?" he demands forcefully. I gulp.

"Long enough to feel like my head was going to pop like a volcano," I mutter. He closes his eyes, fury sweeping across his face. He examines my neck one more and glares back at Jason.

"Did you…?"

"No. He's alive. Barely. I left him that way for Reagan's sake," he mutters. I smile and before I stop myself, I wrap my arms around his torso. I was much happier after my epiphany.

"Thank you," is all I say. He rubs my shoulder awkwardly. Then he pulls back and examines my knuckles once more.

"I can't tell if you have bad luck or you seek trouble. I almost lose you every other day it feels like," he closes his eyes in regret. Briefly, I see fear flash across his face. And in that moment I realize his greatest fear would be losing me. _Jesus._ I wasn't used to seeing him so… I don't know. Real… and open with me. I frown.

"Ditto," I say quietly, because with his occupation, who knows when I'll lose him. The fear is unreal. I stare at the ground.

"You can't be in a constant state of worry around me, you know," he sighs. I shrug, still looking at the ground. _Great._ Tears were forming in my eyes at the idea of what could happen to anyone on the team, not just him. "Look at me, Bren," he urges. A tear falls as I look up, and he frowns deeply at my now swollen face. He brushes away the tear.

"I'm good. We're all good. I promise," he assures me. But I scoff. How would he know?

"Barney we're all ready to go- oh. Am I interrupting something?" Lee halts in the door frame.

"No," I say, nodding at him. He regards us warily but walks back outside. I start to follow, but Barney puts a hand on my shoulder.

"I wish you'd believe me," he sighs. I shake my head, chuckling dryly.

"You don't get it, do you?" I laugh still. Barney stays quiet. "There's no guarantee that you'll make it back every time you leave. Switch roles. Tell me how you would feel, not knowing my future and whether or not I'll be gone soon," I say bitterly. He's stunned to silence.

"Lately, it's been like that anyway," he mutters grumpily. An idea pops in my head, allowing me some peace of mind. I turn back to him all the way.

"What if I had a way to make sure you were alright the whole time?" I ask. He frowns questionably.

"Brenna, you know how it is. It's usually pretty radio silence until we get back-"

"So take me with you," I suggest, and his eyes widen.

"No. Hell no. Not in a million years am I putting you in this world with me," he says immediately. I scowl. "Don't give me that look, the answer is an absolute hell no. Never."

"It's the only peace of mind I could get while you're off saving the world," I mutter. His eyes narrow.

"I'm not doing any saving. I'm killing people. For money. Sometimes brutally. You're the only person who hasn't seen me at my worst. Which means you're the only person that still even thinks of me as human. I don't want that to ever change," he explains. I scowl, frustrated.

"You've seen me at my worse. Do you think I'm not human?"

"You realized what you were doing was bad. You recognize the inhumane actions you take when you take them. Sure, it doesn't always stop you from doing it, but you regret it. Not me. I shoot instantly. No hesitations. No regret," he tells me. I glare at him.

"Are you trying to scare me? Because it won't work," I say snidely. He huffs, annoyed.

"No, I'm not."

"Well then what's the problem?"

"Nothing, Brenna. I'm not having this conversation with you. The final answer is no."

"Why?"

"Because I said so!"

"That's not an answer!"

"Brenna, I've said no! That's it!"

"Well that's not good enough!" He grasps my shoulders, shaking me.

"Because you're everything to me!"

His admittance stuns me to silence. His jaw locks up, his face was still very much angry. He looks away, closing his eyes in fury.

"After everything… you still can't see that. That losing you would absolutely destroy me. I can't have a weakness like that so close to me while I'm on a job. It would be too easy for someone to find you to hurt me. Or Thorn. Hell, there's a risk even to this day that it could happen. Just look at your mother. I can't let that happen to you, ever. You aren't the only one who spends all their time worrying" he says through his teeth, eyes still shut and his hands still clamped around my shoulders. I stay still and quiet.

"I'm already dark, Bren. I don't… I _can't_ risk the only thing that brings any light into my life."

And as he says this, he releases me and walks out. My eyes follow him, stunned that he revealed so much about his internal fears.

"Hey, I heard all the yelling. Are you guys okay?" Thorn asks, caressing my face gently. I nod.

"Just a rough night for us. It's been a rough month, actually," I sigh, tired. Thorn wraps an arm around me, sympathetic.

"I know. Just don't push at him so much," he advises. But that wasn't the problem. It was the fact that we both lived in fear for one another. And it was the same way between Thorn and I.

"How's Reagan?" I ask as we walk out. Barney was already piling everyone into his truck. Thorn would probably ride with Reagan and I.

"She threw up. I'm guessing stress," he gestures to a sick looking Reagan. And for whatever reason, when I look at her, my best friend and sister, I'm overwhelmed. God, what if one day I lose her? Or Thorn? Or Luna? The list was endless. I leave Thorn's side and briskly walk to Reagan.

"Brenna?" Thorn calls.

Reagan sees me coming and she quickly walks to me too, and we embrace each other tightly.

"Do me a favor and never, ever, ever die, got it?" I murmur into her hair. She laughs through her sudden tears. I don't know why we're so emotional, but my conversation with Barney was probably to blame. When I open my eyes, I see Barney is watching us warily. I look away briefly, thanking the heavens above that I wasn't injured or killed today. If I was, god knows what would've happened to Reagan.

Reagan was still sniffling when I release her from my death grip, and I walk her over to Smilee, who's waiting by Barney's truck.

"Take care of her, Smilee. Or you'll end up like one of those guys in there," I threaten weakly. Reagan laughs without humor. He smiles, an actual smile, and nods.

"Do my best, boss," he grins, taking his girlfriend's waist. I smile back, and I feel my unease around him lessen. I spin toward my Jeep, exhaustion from my fight wearing me down.

"I can drive us back if you want," Thorn offers kindly. I smile, and for once, I'm able to admit that I need help. I toss him the keys.

"I've got a headache," I mutter, climbing into the passenger side. Bad day for the worst hangover, possibly in history.


	29. Chapter 29

When I'd finally slept off the hangover and woke up the next day, I got a call from Mira.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" she asks. I laugh.

"Much better. Sorry I didn't get a hold of you yesterday. There was some… drama," I sigh.

"Yeah, Reagan told me. She's nice, your friend. She must've been really freaked out about being attacked. She said she was sick all night," she informs. I sigh.

"Yeah I would've been too."

"Bullshit," she calls me out. I laugh.

"You don't know that," I counter. Her silence tells me she thinks I'm an idiot. I laugh.

"Do you want to get lunch?"

I smile.

"Love to."

We chatted and caught up for a long time at this cafe we went to. It was small and quaint but it was quiet and no one was around. So we could take about the more intense things.

"So, have you heard from David?" Mira asks. I shake my head.

"It's probably for the best. Before he vanished completely, he stopped by my place to say goodbye. And we kissed," I mutter, and Mira chokes on her coffee.

"I'm bloody sorry, what? And when were you planning on telling me this?" she demands. I smirk.

"I'm with Thorn and it's not exactly a proud moment for me."

"So… you don't love him anymore?" Mira asks. I hadn't seen him in months and I honestly couldn't even remember an ounce of feelings I had for him.

"No. I can't remember any of the feelings I once had. Blame Thorn," I giggle, allowing myself to be girlish for just one moment. Mira grins.

"So, when will we be hearing church bells?" she teases. I glare at her in good humor.

"Not for a while," I mutter.

"Really? Is that why you're going on a honeymoon before the wedding?" she teases, and I laugh.

"Oh please, it's not a honeymoon," I laugh.

"Ok fine maybe not. But I hate to break it you honey, he's going to propose. On this trip," she teases and then laughs when my eyes widen.

"You don't think…?"

She shrugs, taking a sip of her coffee.

"He's taking you to Italy, rented out the most luxurious room in an Italian villa, you're going scuba diving, rock climbing, all of these amazing things in one of the most beautiful coastal cities in the world. Brenna, come on. It's the most romantic setting, he couldn't one up that if he tried," she warns me. I swallow nervously.

 _Oh shit._

"And you're sure you have everything? Passport, ID-"

"Yes, dad. I'm good. They're doing first call," I laugh, gesturing to the security line behind me at the airport. Barney was really nervous about me flying away with Thorn, I'm guessing he didn't like that I was going to be so far away. I didn't blame him, last time I was, I was in Africa being tortured. I'm a little nervous as well. I shoulder my brand new carry-on bag once more, as Thorn checks for the millionth time we have all we need. Barney pulls me into a rare hug.

"Well be safe, have fun, and don't kill someone," he mutters. I laugh and hug him back.

"I'll do my best," I pull back and wink at him, and he scoffs.

"I've seen your best, it can do better," he teases. I chuckle.

"Okay we've really gotta go," Thorn urges.

"Take care of her, Thorn," Barney warns, and Thorn gives a two-finger Boy Scout salute. He puts a hand behind my waist and begins to lead me away. I wave back at my entourage, the entire team was there and Reagan. We get through security and Barney is the only one still standing on the other side to watch me off. I look back one last time, and wave. He smiles warmly and waves back, and I turn around. Then Thorn rushes us to the gate.

"Oh sir, first class has already boarded. Here," she hands back our boarding passes and I gawk at him.

"First class?" I squeak. He grins wolfishly and puts an arm around my shoulders.

"Our total flight time is like sixteen, seventeen hours. I'm not doing that in coach. You're lucky we only have one layover," he winks. I look back ahead and I'm directed to my seat by the window in first class. It was incredible. The seats had their own section to stretch out and lay down in. Thorn had bought a duo section so we could sit together, and undoubtedly so he could be his inappropriate self. He produces his cell phone as I get settled in my seat.

"Smile!" he takes a picture of me looking up at the cell phone. I look startled. I laugh. I look so little on my huge first class chair.

"Sent it to Barney, I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm going to kill you," he jokes. I give him a look.

"This vacation is an adrenaline junkies wet dream. Of course he's worried," I tease.

Eventually, we get settled in and we begin to taxi down the runway. My stomach is full of butterflies as we begin to take off. Only plane I'd ever been on was when Barney flew us back from Africa. And that felt safer, because I knew him. Thorn notices my unease and takes my hand.

We had just landed in Chicago, and we had a one hour layover. So I took out my phone immediately and called Barney. He answered on the first ring.

"Alive still?"

"No, the plane went down outside of Kansas City and we're stranded," I say, panicked. Thorn glares at me.

"What?" Barney exclaims, equally panicked. I laugh.

"Nah we're fine."

"God, Brenna, that's not funny," he says, exasperated.

"I know, I'm sorry. Couldn't resist," I laugh. He mutters something about me being a brat, and then Thorn and I make our way to the first class lounge. Then I get a call from Reagan.

"Hello!" I say cheerfully.

"Hey… quick question…" she asks in a low voice. It sounds like she's whispering, as if she's hiding.

"Um, sure."

"How long do pregnancy tests take to tell you accurately if your pregnant?" she chokes, and I launch up in my seat. _No. Oh no._

"Um, well it depends on how far along you think you are. If you're just a couple days in, it may take a minute or it'll say you aren't at all. If you're a couple weeks, maybe a month, then it's going to tell you right away," I say as calm as I can, because I don't need her to freak out. She sobs.

"It took only six seconds, Brenna," she cries quietly. A hand flies to my mouth and I stand up and walk away from Thorn for privacy. He looks at me questionably but I hold up my finger.

"Have you gone to a doctor to confirm?"

"Do you think I'd be doing an at home test if I had?" she sniffles with attitude.

"Does Smilee..?"

"No. No, not at all and not yet. I have to figure out what to do," she whispers. I shake my head.

"Reagan you need to go to a doctor. Now. Especially after what happened last week, if you're pregnant, the baby could be damaged. And you need to take Smilee with you," I warn her. She sobs.

"He's going to be so angry," she says shakily.

"Oh honey, I wish I was there. I'm so sorry. He'll be freaked out but he won't be mad at you. Please go to a doctor," I sigh, pleading with her. She sniffles.

"Okay. Should I just tell him like ripping a bandaid off?" she asks.

"No easier way to do it. Just be gentle. This is just as scary for him," I tell her. She nods, says a few more things about the test, and then talks herself into going to tell Smilee. When I hang up, Thorn is behind me.

"How far along is she?" he sighs sadly. I wasn't mad for eavesdropping, he would probably know soon anyway.

"Few weeks, maybe a month. The test only took six seconds total to get her the results. And she took several," I rub my forehead. I should be there with her. Thorn curses.

"I'm sorry, I know you want to be there for her. Has she told Smilee yet?" he asks.

"She hung up to go tell him. You know him better than I do, how do you think he'll take it?" I ask. Thorn sighs.

"As best he can. Don't worry about him, he's not a deadbeat. He'll be there for her. But I'm sure he'll be scared," he reassures me.

"I… I just know from first hand experience how these things go. My dad-"

"I know. But this is the start of a vacation. Don't worry so much," he wraps his arms around me gently. I nod, but frown as I sit back down in my chair. I text Reagan.

 **Boarding soon. Let me know what happens. ASAP.**

Fifteen minutes later, they call our flight and we make our way to the gate.

Our first class seats were even bigger now, and I continue to gawk at Thorn. _This was a birthday present?_ He must read my mind and laugh.

"After the year you've had, you seriously can't say that you deserve this?" he asks. I hadn't thought about it like that. I relax into my seat.

Eleven hours later, we had landed in Pisa International Airport and got our rental car. I'm grateful that Thorn spoke French, he could kind of make out what people were saying and communicate with them.

But now we sat in a much-too-nice rental car with a four hour drive in front of us. It was five in the morning in Italy, but it was ten at night back home. I was exhausted, and my constant yawns showed it. Thorn rests a hand on my knee.

"Recline back and sleep," he suggests. I wave him off.

"Someone needs to keep you awake," I tease through another yawn. He laughs.

"If you're not going to sleep, will you at least drink your water?"

"Has Barney given you instructions on how to water and feed me?" I tease. He rolls his eyes.

"No, but you're like a child sometimes and forget to take care of yourself," he mutters.

"Hey!"

My phone buzzes. It's Barney. _Shit._ I forgot to call when I landed.

"Hey, sorry, I forgot to call and say we landed. We're in the rental now," I answer.

"No problem. Tired?" he asks. I yawn once more, confirming. He laughs.

"Jussa lil. I wish I could sleep," I mutter grumpily.

"Well, how about you try?"

"I have tried!"

"No she hasn't," Thorn calls out. I glare at him and Barney laughs on the other line.

"Get some rest, kid," he says and hangs up. But I immediately call Reagan.

"Hello?" she answers, and I can tell she's been crying.

"Hey, how did it go?" I ask. She sniffs.

"About as well as you would expect. He freaked out. He's not mad at me… which is more than I expected. But he left a little while ago. I think he's going to go talk to your dad. Seeing as how… ya know, he would know what to do because of you…"

"Well hopefully Smilee doesn't follow that same path," I grumble.

"He didn't walk out on me. He asked if he could go talk to Barney before his head popped. I said okay," she assures me.

"Have you called a gynecologist yet?"

"Yes. Appointment tomorrow at noon. We'll know for sure then."

"I'm so sorry, Reagan. I wish I was there," I sigh.

"Don't be. Enjoy your vacation. Love you, Bren," she says. I sigh.

"Love you too," I hang up. Thorn regards me with concern.

"How did he take it?"

"As best he could. He's on his way over to Barney to talk about things." Thorn nods.

"Don't think about it so much. I understand why this might affect you personally, but don't let it. You're halfway across the world, in one of the most beautiful countries on the planet. Let yourself be here," he takes my hand. I squeeze it, but I'm actually still very worried. Reagan needed me now more than ever.

"We're here, love. Wake up," Thorn nuzzles my neck gently. I stir awake and see that he holding open the passenger door. The humidity and heat hit my face and it's so welcome.

"Already?" I ask. The sun has come up and the morning sun cast a beautiful pink glow on the sky. I could smell the sea pines that loomed over a gorgeous Italian villa that was painted a beautiful gold color. The villa was surrounded by beautiful flora and perfect landscaping. And just faintly, I could hear the soft rush of waves. I get out, looking around awestruck.

"This is beautiful," I murmur, astounded. He grins.

"Wait until you get to our room. You'll be able to see the Ligurian sea from there," he hands the keys to the valet, and guides me in by the waist.

"What about our stuff?" I ask.

"Already in the room. I unloaded while you were asleep," he kisses my temple gently. I lean against him as we await the elevator. The lobby was luxurious and practically dripping in gold. "Tired?"

"A little. I feel a bit better though."

"Well we can do whatever you want today. Our room has a giant bath so we can just relax, take it easy, maybe go check out the private beach this place has," he massages my shoulders, kissing my neck gently as the elevator goes up. I make a low noise as he works the knots out of my shoulders. Then the elevator doors open and he guides me down the hall and keys open our room.

"Welcome to Portofino," he opens the door and the breath in my throat catches.

The suite was not only huge, it was breathtaking. An open balcony with long, cream drapes that blew in the gentle Mediterranean wind stretch across the entire far wall. The canopy bed sat facing the balcony, the canopy also gently blowing in the breeze. The floor was a beautiful marble stone, that made no noise as we walked in. Our suitcases stood by the bed.

I walked in further, looking at the bathroom. We had a massive whirlpool bathtub, a full spa, and walk in closet. I laugh, astounded. I start to back out of the room, but Thorn places his hands on my eyes.

"I want you to see the view," he murmurs in my ear. He guides me gently over to the balcony. "Ready?" he asks. I grin, nodding. Then he releases my eyes.

Beautiful tropical flowers lined the balcony, and beyond that, vibrant green hills rolled along the coast with multicolored buildings. But that wasn't the best part. The enchanting blue sea below made my jaw drop. I leaned over the balcony immediately, letting the warm breeze soak into my skin and hair. It smelled like hibiscus and lavender. I hear a faint snapping, and I look back at Thorn who has a camera pointed at me.

"Hey!" I laugh, blocking my face.

"Sorry, I wanted to capture the moment you saw it," he grins.

"It's… staggering. I've never even seen anything like it… it just so blue and…" I trail off, still mind-blown.

Behind us is a small outdoor table with two champagne glasses and champagne on ice. Thorn opens the bottle and pours a glass for me.

"To us," he clinks his glass with mine, and I grin as I drink the delicious prosecco.

"You're being so cheesy," I giggle. He grasps my chin firmly, swoops down, and presses his lips to mine gently. I'm lost in our own little world, in his embrace on a balcony in Italy. I don't know how long he's kissing me, could be hours for all I know. And I wouldn't care.

"As much as I would love to kiss you all day, I want to get the travel grime washed off. Bath?" he asks, taking my hand. I smile and nod. He brushes my skin softly.

"The sun is already giving you a lovely glow. You belong here," he murmurs, pressing his lips to my collarbone. I sigh, melting against him.

"I'll be right back," he whispers and walks off to run the bath. Then he stops suddenly.

"By the way, relax as much as you want to, but tonight we're going to dinner by the marina. There's some people I want you to meet," he grins ear to ear, somewhat of a troublemaker. I eye him suspiciously.

"Who?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Thorn," he grins, and my heart starts racing a million miles a minute. _His parents? Oh shit._

 _Barney's POV_

"Smilee, you look like death. What's up? Is Reagan alright?" I ask him as he walks into the parlor. His face is white and ashen, his eyes sunk in and panicked.

"She's… fine," he whispers. His tone of voice causes everyone to turn around.

"Seriously kid, what's up?" Toll Road asks. He gestures to me.

"I need to talk to you, outside," he mutters and turns on his heel and walks back out. I look at the rest of the room briefly, but they all gesture toward the door to go find out what's wrong. I light a cigar and follow him out.

"What's wrong?" I ask when I reach him outside.

"Reagan's pregnant," he says immediately, and he looks sick to his stomach. _Oh fuck._

"Fuck… has she been to a doctor yet?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"Tomorrow," he chokes. He looks completely freaked out and, for lack of a better word, terrified.

"Good. How sure are you..?"

"She has three positive tests, none of which took longer than ten seconds to say positive. She's been throwing up, emotional… I can't believe I'm so stupid," he laughs without humor.

"You can't beat yourself up. Can't change what is. You didn't walk out on her did you?" I ask. Brenna would fly back home right now and I would have to hold her back from killing him. I realized last week how much Reagan means to her. I'm starting to understand why Thorn believes Brenna has a perfect mix of me and her mother, she goes to all lengths to protect her family.

"No, I didn't. She knows I'm here. She understands why I wanted to come talk to you," he says, putting his head in his hand. He looked so ashamed.

"Well, what do you need from me?"

"Advice. You didn't know what to do with Brenna-"

"And I walked away. Stupidest choice I ever made. I missed out on everything. Don't make my same mistakes kid, I promise you'll regret it," I warn him. I can't believe he would even consider leaving Reagan.

"It's not that… I would never leave them. But…"

"But what?"

"I love her… so much. I don't even know 100% if she is pregnant. But I already love the baby. It would kill me if I lost them…"

Ah, that's what this was about. He was scared about losing them, or protecting them. I sigh.

"That's always our problem, isn't it? Protecting the people we love," I mutter to myself, thinking about Brenna. The harder to try to protect her, the more I push her away. But I couldn't tell Smilee that. He'd be even more scared.

"You… you have to trust them, kid. It's not going to be easy. But you have to trust that no matter what, they can handle themselves. Teach Reagan how to fight, that might bring some peace of mind. But worrying and stressing about this? It'll only make them anxious and worried about you. You've just got to let the chips fall where they may."

"Have you ever thought of retiring?" he asks. I sigh.

"No. This is my life. I've accepted that. Why, are you?" I ask. He shrugs.

"It's just something to consider. I've got a baby on the way," he laughs, this time with humor.

"So, you weren't worried about the baby?" I ask. He shrugs.

"I'm going to be a father. That's it," he shrugs once more, trying to seem nonchalant. But deep within his eyes, he's crippled with worry. I laugh.

"Don't worry. You have Reagan. She'll keep you in line. But as far as parenting advice goes, you're on your own. My kid was twenty before she became my kid again," I laugh. Smilee laughs too.

"They have books n shit, right?"

"Could ask Caesar too. He has two girls," I just remember. He doesn't talk about them much, and nor does he bring them around. For good reason.

"I forgot he even had kids," Smilee laughs. I slap him on the shoulder.

"You'll be fine, John. Have you thought about Reagan?" I ask.

"What do you mean?"

"How she feels, how scared she is? Have you guys discussed marriage at all?" I ask. Smilee's eyes widen and I laugh. "Guess not. Look, just try not to freak out. And go home, for God's sake. Your pregnant girlfriend is probably in tears," I shove him toward his bike and he laughs, leaving.

When I walk back in, everyone is gawking at me.

"So..?"

I shrug.

"Reagan and him are having problems with the job. No big deal, he was just freaked out." It wasn't my place to break the news.

 _Brenna's POV_

"Are you sure about this?" I shout down into the water below. Thorn laughs.

"I can't believe I finally found what you're afraid of. Heights. Jump down you big baby!" he shouts from the water up at the cliff where I was standing. I gulp.

"He won't give up until you jump," Vicky, Thorn's mother, says. They were in town for one more day before heading back to South Africa. They were completely lovely people, and very kind to me. I was terrified the night that I met them, I was actually sick with worry. Especially because Thorn surprised it on me. But it ended up being a very nice evening, and they've been sticking around the last few days. Thorn has paid for their travel and hotel.

"If it helps, close your eyes. No shame in that. He'll never know," Wayne says, Thorn's father. I laugh.

"I'm waiting!" I hear Thorn shout. We were set to go skydiving tomorrow, and I don't know how I'm going to manage that.

"God, alright!" I shout back down to him and back up to get a running start. This cliff we hiked to was massive, it was a known attraction for adrenaline seekers, I.e my boyfriend.

"Good luck, dear!" Vicky says with a thumbs up. I take a deep breath, and charge the cliff side. I forget to close my eyes and scream the whole way down. My feet hit the cool water, and I'm shot below the surface. I swim up in a panic, coughing and spluttering. Thorn is laughing, and I can hear his parents laughing too.

"Now, THAT was a scream," he teases, pointing at the GoPro he has on his wrist.

"Please tell me you didn't get that on film," I groan. He's been documenting our whole trip like crazy. He grins, and I groan.

"I don't understand how you expect me to go _skydiving_ tomorrow," I whine. He grins wider.

"Overcoming fears baby," he winks. I narrow my eyes.

"What's your fear, I'll make you live through it," I growl. His grin slips briefly.

"I'd rather you didn't," he swims over to me, grabbing my waist. He kisses me softly and I know his biggest fear is losing me. I wrap my arms around him and he smiles.

"You've caught the sun. It's cute," he taps my sunburnt nose. Thankfully, nothing else was sunburnt. I just had a dark tan, probably the darkest I've ever looked. "I like you in little white bikinis," he whispers seductively in my ear. I laugh and shove him off.

"Your parents are watching," I kick off his stomach and swim away towards the beach, which was a long swim. Thorn follows.

"Take a break, Brenna. It's a long swim. If you get a cramp this far out here the current will take you," Thorn calls behind me. I stop swimming, my arms felt like noodles anyway.

"Oww," I whine, laughing. He splashes me.

"You big baby."

"Hey, I jumped! I'm proud of that," I splash him back. He swims over to me, capturing my lips in a salty kiss. I wrap my slippery legs around his waist, pulling his lower half against me. He groans and puts his hands on my bare waist.

"Making love in the ocean might be fun," I say against his lips. He grins.

"Maybe. If you behave while skydiving tomorrow," he shoved me off playfully and we race back to the shore.

 _Thorn's POV_

"You ready, baby?" I yell over the roar of the plane engine and howling wind.

"Do I sound ready?" she screams. I laugh, pointing the GoPro out to see her face. She and I were tandem jumping since I was certified. I move us over to the edge of the jumping zone, and she makes the mistake of looking down. She presses against me.

"This is fucking crazy!" she shouts. I laugh.

"Don't look down, you moron!" She elbows me.

"On the sound of three! One… two," and I shove off the plane at three. I hear her scream and can't help but laugh. But when she looks around, her screams turn into laughter. _Finally._ I was waiting for the moment for her fear to turn thrill.

We could see Portofino and all the clearwater from up here. The view was breathtaking. We were making a water landing, I could see the boat waiting for us. I pull the chute and she squeals with delight. I was getting great footage of her. It was rare to see her so carefree and honest with her own emotions.

"This is amazing!" she yells over the wind. I laugh, kissing the back of her head.

We approach the water, and I instruct her to bend her knees and brace her legs out. We land in the water safely, the chute going over our heads and into the water. I pull her up with me and release her straps so she can swim in her own. She turns to me and attacks me, kissing me breathless. I laugh.

"They say take a girl to a theme park on the first date," I wink and she blushes. My parents were on the boat waiting for us, it was their last day here. We eventually get the parachute loaded while Brenna chats with my mom. I'm thrilled at how much they adore her, especially my mom.

We get back to the hotel and Brenna is exhausted from the adrenaline wearing off.

"Why don't you go take a rest and I'll send a masseuse to the room?" I murmur into her ear.

"Are we still getting lunch before they leave?" she asks, panicked. She loved my parents as well. I smile fondly.

"Yea, but we've got a couple hours still. I'm going to go help them load up anyway," I kiss her forehead and she excuses herself to the room. I call a masseuse in the room, confirming a woman would be the one with their hands on my half naked and gorgeous girlfriend. She had a earthly glow about her now. She wore light, summery dresses that Reagan picked out for her when we went shopping. They looked great on her.

I make my way over to my parents room.

"Hey Ethan. Where's your lovely lady?" Dad asks. I smile.

"I called a massage in for her," I tell him. My mom squeals.

"Aw, that's so sweet and romantic!"

"I actually did it so I could talk to you guys alone about something," I close the door quietly behind me, though I know Brenna is safely far away in a world of tranquility. I ordered the spa treatment so it would take a while.

"What's up?" Dad asks.

"Do you guys like her?" I ask. They laugh.

"Of course we do, son. She's a joy," Mom says. I nod, pleased to hear.

"Good. Because I'm going to ask her to marry me," I tell them. My mom stands, completely thrilled, practically cheering as she hugs me. My dad slaps me on the shoulder, congratulating me. I laugh.

"I haven't asked her yet! And I'm not going to on this trip either. I haven't got her father's blessing, and I think that would be really important to both of them," I inform my parents. My dad looks so proud, he may cry.

"She's a real special girl, Ethan. I love how she challenges you, and she's so fearless. You have our blessing," he says. I smile widely, hugging my mom still. Now I just had to plan it out.

When I return to the room, Brenna has just finished her spa treatment. I quickly retrieve the parcel under my pillow. She's standing on the balcony by herself, her nose in the air. She was wearing nothing but a short creme silk bathrobe. Her hair was freshly washed and trimmed, and they curled it as well. They manicured her hands and feet, as well as exfoliated her skin. She looked radiant. And I couldn't help but just stare at her while she enjoyed the view.

 _That's mine. She gave herself to me._

I felt like the luckiest man on earth, and as much as I make fun of or disagree with Barney, I was glad that he was the reason she was brought into my world. She senses my presence and whirls around, startled.

"I didn't see you-"

"You're so beautiful," I murmur. I produce the parcel to her, handing it over. She looks at it curiously.

"Just something to get you inspired again," I tell her. I hadn't seen her draw anything in forever, and there was no better time than while we were here. She unwraps it and gasps. It was a new sketchbook, made entirely out of authentic Italian leather and handmade pages. I had it specially made, it had an engraving of both a raven and a rose. Her head snaps up, and she's smiling widely with tears in her eyes.

"This is beautiful," she laughs, reaching up and tiptoes to kiss me. Her lips are warm and inviting, and as much as I would like more of her, we have to get ready for lunch.

While we get dressed, we chat about who we've heard from back home.

"How did Barney's date go?" I tease. She grimaces.

"Bad, apparently. I don't know, I feel like I forced it. I just wanted him to have more people in his life that he cares about," she sighs sadly.

"You're a kind daughter, Brenna. You just want to make sure he's okay," I rub her shoulders tenderly. She had on a white dress now, and it make me envision her in a wedding gown. The thought makes me smile secretively.

"What's that grin for?" she asks, her eyebrows raised.

"Nothing. Come on, my parents are expecting us. And tomorrow, we scuba dive," I remind her. She's excited, but I think her limbs are about as limp as noodles. So maybe I'll give it one more day so she can rest.

That night, she's standing out on the balcony again looking up at the stars and listening to the sea. I'm watching her, half naked on the bed. All she had on was a beach wrap. We just got out of the bath together. She was running her fingers through her damp hair gently, awestruck by the sky.

"Amazing, isn't it?" I ask her. She gazes back at me with a look that can only be described as adoration.

"There's been a lot of amazing on this trip so far," she goes back to looking at the night sky. I come up behind her, kissing her neck softly. She leans into me.

"You can actually see the constellations out here. Back home there's too much light pollution," I murmur, pointing to different ones. She asks me to tell her about them, and I oblige. But I don't think she's really interested in the stars. I think she just likes to hear me talk.

"You know a lot," she yawns, sleepy. I grin against her ear.

"My first love was astronomy. Tired?" I ask her. She skydived for the first time today, of course she was.

"A little. So take me to bed before I'm too sleepy," she grins, spinning in my arms. I pick her up and she wraps her legs around my waist. I lay her on the bed, climbing up her body. She places a hand softly on my face.

"I love you," she murmurs sweetly.

"I love you," I answer, and lose myself in her.

 _Brenna's POV_

"Hey, wake up. We're home," Thorn nudges me awake, just finished driving us home from the airport.

The last three weeks went by so fast, I was sad it was over. But I missed home a lot, and the people that accompanied it. It was only 6 PM, but travel exhausts me. I yawn.

"Good vacation, Ms. Ross?" he leans across my seat and unbuckles my seatbelt. I grin sleepily.

"The best. You're the best boyfriend ever. I'm spoiled now," I tease. He laughs, getting out of the Jeep. He offers to take my suitcase while I rub my eyes sleepily.

I looked different too. My feet and hands were manicured to perfection, my hair was cut and professionally styled, my skin was tanned and smooth, and I was still wearing the sun dresses that Reagan forced me to get. They grew on me, I like them now. I was wearing a light pink one now.

We get in the elevator and I yawn. Thorn chuckles.

"You may want to wake up a little," he murmurs in my ear. I grin coyly.

"Why's that?" I ask sleepily.

"Because they'll want you awake," he says, grinning. I open my eyes wider to look at him questionably, but when the elevator doors slide open, I'm welcomed to an entourage of people.

"Welcome home!" they shout. I grin, and throw my arms around the first person that approaches. It's Reagan.

She's officially pregnant, and Smilee has been nothing but helpful and supportive. Which was great.

"Brenna, you look stunning!" she gushes, gripping me tightly. I laugh.

"How're you feeling?" I ask, and she grins.

"Great," she winks, because nobody else knows yet.

I'm welcomed and hugged by everyone and someone hands me a glass of wine, I think it was Vera, Gunnar's woman. But I sip it gratefully. I needed the alcohol to keep me on my feet for this party.

"Where's Barney?" I ask. Luna sighs.

"He and Christmas are on their way back from a job. I don't know when they're supposed to be here. Any time," she says. I'm a little sad they aren't here, but I have everyone else around me.

"So… did he?" Mirembe asks. I laugh.

"Nope!" I say triumphantly, because I knew he wouldn't.

"What would you have said if he did?" Reagan hisses quietly. I blush, and their eyes widen.

"Yes?!" they squeak.

"Ssh! Keep it down," I laugh when a few people turn our way. The party lasts much longer, and I collapse on Thorn's couch next to Luna. She laughs.

"More than you were expecting for one day? Thank Reagan for that," she teases. I laugh, so tired.

"I heard there was a party in here!" a familiar British voice says. I launch up, and everyone starts to welcome them back as well. It was dual-Welcome Home party. But then the crowd parts and I see Barney. Before I can stop myself, I run toward him and throw my arms around him. He laughs, picking me up, a very uncharacteristic thing for him. The room has gone quiet.

"Hey kid," he mutters in my ear. I laugh.

"Hi," I say back. I was glad he was back safely. One less thing to worry about.

"Sorry I'm late," he says. He releases me but keeps his hands on my shoulders. I shrug.

"You're here," I grin. He assesses me for a moment.

"You look great. I'm glad you took care of her," he sees Thorn behind me and shakes his hand. Thorn grins.

"Hard task, but I think I fared well," Thorn teases. I elbow him lightly and he laughs. I lean against Thorn lovingly, and he puts an arm around me. Barney smiles at the two of us.

"You guys look great together," he slaps Thorn's shoulder and makes his way to Smilee and Reagan. Likely to follow up with them about their situation. I was shocked as his display of emotion.

"You do look sensational," Thorn murmurs. I twirl in my dress cockily and he laughs and takes my hand. He presses it to his lips.

"You're not too shabby yourself," I run my fingers through his forming beard. He grins, and swoops me down low to kiss me. I squeal and giggle through the kiss. He pulls me back up and to his chest.

And for once, everything felt perfect.


	30. Chapter 30

_Brenna's POV_

"What is the point of a rehearsal if no one takes it seriously?" Lace is ballistic, and she's gone full bridezilla on the podium. But it was my fault. Sort of. Mirembe started on the helium first. And I just couldn't resist. I take a quick puff.

"Come on Lace, how can you not laugh at this?" I say in a squeaky helium voice. Everyone cracks up, even her bridesmaids and maid of honor try to keep a straight face. Lace cracks a smile and she sighs.

"Alright fine, you're funny. But finish with the balloons please, so we can do the rehearsal with you?"

I take another puff.

"Yes ma'am!" I shout, cracking up as soon as I say it. Mirembe, Reagan, and I are dying with laughter.

"This is what happens when you put the kids to work," Barney says behind me. I turn around.

"I can't believe I'm helping with a merc wedding. Do you have any idea how weird this is?" I tell him quietly as I finish the balloons. He laughs.

"Well, it's weird that I'm someone's best man. But we've all got weird tasks these days," He sighs, regarding Lee with concern. He still didn't approve of Lace.

"She's not that bad once you get to know her," I tell him. I should know, I just spend four days in Vegas with her and five cackling bridesmaids like her.

"From what I understand, you weren't sober 90% of the time. Your word is hardy valid," he nudges me. I glare at Lee. I told him about our adventures under the promise he wouldn't utter a single word.

"Traitor," I mutter. Barney laughs.

"I'm glad you're having fun. I haven't seen you this happy… well since you came around," he says. I sigh.

"Everything has been so… perfect lately. But… it's making me really, _really_ anxious. Like something horrible is going to happen soon," I mumble. Barney puts an arm around me.

"You deserve to be happy all the time, Bren. Not brooding and serious," he advises. I shrug.

"Take what I can get. Though my offer still stands to go with you guys-"

"And you know the answer," he says sharply. I frown.

"I wouldn't even have to leave the plane, just-"

" _No_ , Brenna," he implores. I growl under my breath. He sighs. "Don't get mad, please. It's nice to hear you laughing. If you want to fight about this for the millionth time, can it wait until after all this mess?" he gestures to the wedding hall. He and I had been getting along just fine, but we fight a lot more than we used to. But it wasn't bad fighting, back when we used to fight it would get serious.

"I'm just glad they postponed it a couple months. There was no way they'd be able to get this planned to Lace's standards in a month," I sigh. It was the end of July now, the perfect time for wedding.

A sudden roar of thunder shakes the building. It was definitely summer in New Orleans. I walk back over to Reagan.

"And how's the little one?" I ask. Everyone knew about Reagan now that was about four months a long. She had a small belly bump.

"He's doing okay," she pats her tummy proudly.

"She!" Smilee says as he walks past her. They were having a gender war until their appointment next week to know the gender. And then afterwards I would take her shopping for baby stuff. Especially now that I had my own paycheck as a tattoo apprentice with Tool. She flips off Smilee.

"I _need_ hot Cheetos from the vending, Brenna-"

"On it!" I whirl around and walk out into the corridor of the wedding hall. My heels that I was breaking in clicked on the marble flooring. But suddenly, I was pulled into a storage closet from behind. I scream, but they have a hand over my mouth. Until I see it's Thorn. He's laughing at me but I place a hand over my heart.

"Christ, you know how paranoid I've been lately-"

He swoops down, shoving his lips onto mine. He hikes my leg up onto his waist, and then he picks me up and pins me against the wall. He locks the closet door.

"You've been so busy with bridesmaid duties, I've missed you," he nuzzles my cleavage. I laugh.

"Not here, not in a storage closet in a wedding hall!" I giggle. He grins wolfishly and slides his hands up my bare legs to my shorts.

"I like you in heels and shorts. It's kind of hot," he growls in my ear. I was wearing a baby blue tank top with my flannel wrapped around my waist when we started working. It matched my heels, so I looked a tad sleezy. But when I had sandals on it looked normal.

"I like it when you let me perform my bridesmaid duties-"

"Please, your getting snacks for the preagan-Reagan," he teases. I stop for a moment.

"Did you just call her preagan-Reagan?" I laugh loudly, and he covers my mouth.

"Ssh, you're gonna get us busted!" he snickers. He presses his lips to my neck, and I sigh. I _have_ missed him. I've been so busy.

"Fine, five minutes. You've got five minutes of making out-" he didn't need me to tell him twice before he rips down my shorts.

"Okay, seriously, we're in so much trouble!" I hiss when I look at my watch. We've been gone fifteen minutes.

"No, you are. No one knows I'm here," he grins, on the ground still. I'm walking around half naked, looking for my shorts. He whistles and when I turn around, he's twirling them on his finger. I snatch them from him.

"You're such a bad influence," I complain. He grabs my ankles and pulls me down on top of him again.

"You love it," he grins cockily. I narrow my eyes and button his jeans for him.

"Once was enough, big guy. I said making out only-"

"And you just couldn't control yourself," he grins. I gawk at him.

"Excuse you, I wasn't the one-" he silences me with a kiss.

"I love you," he murmurs against my lips. I melt, pinning him back to the floor.

"Prove it," I grin against his lips, and he smiles.

"Is that a challenge? Because by now, you should know I have no limits," he growls. I shove him off, giggling.

"I've got to go!" I hiss, sliding my heels back on. He checks the door for anyone lurking outside and kisses me once more.

"I'll see you tonight," he says against my lips, and his words are full of sensual promise. I wink at him and walk out.

When I've bought enough hot Cheetos, I make my way back to the hall.

"Christ, where have you been? What took so long?" Reagan demands. I laugh.

"Got into a fight with the vending machine and lost," I joke. _I just had sex in the supply closet with my handsy boyfriend._

"Heels getting any easier?" she asks. I kick them off.

"Do you think Lace would notice if I went barefoot?" I grumble. She laughs and tears into a package of hot Cheetos.

"I think she would notice that your hair is an absolute mess and your shirt is on inside out," she gives me a knowing look, grinning. _Shit. I'm busted._ I put on my flannel to hide my shirt being messed up and put up my hair into a bun.

"Good?" I ask. She gives me a thumbs up.

"You know, you could've had longer. I would've covered for you," she teases. I give her a look and steal a hot Cheeto.

"Bullshit, you would've sent someone our way," I laugh.

"Was it at least good?" she challenges. I glare at her.

"So not going there," I tell her and she snickers evilly.

"Brenna, please come here," I hear Lee call me over.

"What's up?"

"Lace is having a mental breakdown. There's a million things that need done and her bridesmaids won't help because they're in the rehearsal and that's all they think they have to do. You're the only one doing any manual labor. I need you to rally them up and finish this. Please. I'm begging you," he implores, annoyed with his bridezilla. I groan.

"They hardly know me, it's all of Laces friends. I don't want to be mean to them," I whine.

"I don't care if you're mean or not, just please try something," he gestures to the women standing around by the podium chatting. I sigh. I wasn't about to let this day be ruined by a bunch of lazy ladies. I traffic whistle in the hall to get everyone's attention, including the groomsmen and best man, Barney, Caesar, Toll Road, and Lace's brother. The groomsmen list would've been longer but Lace wanted it even. Everyone snaps their heads up, looking at me as I approach the alter.

"Alright, listen up!" I yell into the hall.

"I've got a bride in full panic mode in her dressing room because this shit ain't getting done. So now, we're doing this the Ross way. Bridesmaids: you aren't here to look pretty. That's for tomorrow. Start hanging the lights according to Lace's layout. If you have questions, just look at the charts. Groomsmen, start arranging the tables and chairs by the seating chart." I see Thorn walk in, looking around.

"Thorn, go check with the tech people and fix their shit so nothing is fucked up," I order. He grins and salutes me, humored.

"Okay I'm doing a lot of talking and not seeing a lot of movement. Get your asses going!" I snap, and everyone disperses. Barney approaches me, very much amused.

"The Ross-way?" he questions.

"Oh don't act like I don't get that from you," I tell him and he laughs.

"So what's the best man's task, boss?" he asks. I laugh.

"Go with Lee to check on the tuxes and rings," I gesture towards the door.

"Yes ma'am," he teases and he's out the door.

Eventually everything is set up, and Lace is thrilled.

"Thank you for whipping them into shape, Brenna," she crushes me into a hug. I hug her back.

"Anytime. Now go get your beauty sleep," I direct, setting down the clipboard I was clutching. I was the last one here, everyone else had been dismissed. I just wanted to stay to show Lace. When she leaves, I power down and lock up the hall.

I'm walking to my Jeep when I feel it. A strange tingling sensation that someone is watching me. I halt, whirling around. No one is behind me. I look around, but there are only about a million windows where someone could have eyes on me.

"Who's there?" I call out. No answer. I speed to my Jeep, unlock it, and get inside. I check the backseat for anyone lurking and lock the doors. I throw it in reverse quickly and speed off.

When I get home, I rush to the elevator and sag with relief once I'm in the apartment.

"It's about time you got home," I hear Thorn say from the living room. I walk in and he's half naked already. And it doesn't take more than two seconds for me to get the same way.

The wedding was beautiful. Everything went perfectly, and now it was time to party. I was in a god awful short blue dress as a bridesmaid, and my dad had cleaned up nicely in a tux.

But the music was blaring at the reception now as most everyone got drunk and danced. Thankfully, Reagan couldn't drink so I had someone to take it easy with.

"You've seemed on edge all day. Are you alright?" she asks. I shrug.

"I told you. Someone was watching me last night," I tell her again. She frowns.

"Ok but who though? Brenna, you said you were paranoid-"

"I know, I know. But I can't shake the feeling. It's like a sixth sense, you know?" I sigh knowing she won't believe me, but she puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Well if you're that concerned, so am I. Don't go anywhere alone until we talk to Barney," she suggests. I smile, nodding. A slow song starts to play, and she's towed away by Smilee. I watch them, smiling and happy for them.

"So what were you two brooding about over here? I saw how worried you looked from across the room," Thorn says behind me. I shrug.

"Bad mojo," I sigh. He laughs.

"You and Barney both have the strangest superstitions," he teases, but I don't laugh. Instead my eyes scan the room once more. Something was wrong. The room was massive and there were hundreds of people, but I could just tell something was wrong. Thorn stops laughing.

"Brenna, what's wrong?" he looks around. I shake my head.

"Someone was watching me last night when I walked to my car. I got a bad feeling. And I'm getting that feeling again now. Where's our newlyweds?" I ask. Thorn sighs.

"You don't have to play bouncer all night. Just relax and have some fun," he pleads.

"Why is no one taking me seriously?" I demand.

"Because it's no secret that you've been jumpy and paranoid the last few weeks."

"Yes but this is the perfect way for someone-"

"Brenna, _nothing_ is going to happen," he says, exasperated. I glare at him.

"And how do you know?" I demand. He throws a hand in the air.

"Why are you sabotaging a perfectly good evening for yourself?" he questions. I turn to him, actually mad now.

"Sabotaging?"

"Yes. You're being destructive on purpose. Why?"

"I'm not doing _anything_ on purpose. I told you I had a bad-"

"Feeling, I heard you the first million times you've said it today. It's making you intolerable to be around," he huffs, shaking his head. He closes his eyes briefly, realizing what he said was mean.

"Allow me to alleviate that intolerance for you," I snap, storming away.

"Brenna, wait!" he calls after me. But I was already out of the reception hall. I dig my keys from my clutch, just wanting to go home. I get out into the parking lot, the humid summer air relieving me slightly.

Suddenly, a sharp pain goes into my abdomen.

"Ah!" I scream, looking down. I see a knife sticking out of my stomach, and I follow the hand it goes to.

"Hello again, Brenna," Jason, Reagan's father, hisses in my face. He covers my mouth and twists the blade, making me scream. I grab the knife, stepping back. It shreds out of my skin. He tries to lunge for me again, but I roll out of the way. Bad move, my wound was deep. This wasn't a through and through shot, where I've been lucky in the past. No, something was very, very wrong. I clutch my bleeding abdomen, gasping for air. Jason delivers a kick to my stomach that sends me flying back to the ground. When I hit the wet concrete, searing pain rips through my body. I'm unable to move.

"Jason! Let her bleed out, let's go!" I hear someone hiss, and Jason takes off.

I tried to sit up, to roll over, anything. But I was barely conscious. _My phone. I need my phone._

My clutch was on the ground, too far away. I conjure up whatever strength I have, crawling to it. The ground felt wetter, and when I look down, I realize I've bled out profusely into the street. My limbs collapse and I began to breathe shallow. Cold sweats broke across my body. I call out for help, once or twice, but it was no use. I was dying. Tears streamed from my face. I laid in the street, hoping and praying by some miracle I would get out of this. But nobody came, and my phone was just out of reach. I thought about my dad, and Thorn. How I wished they were here more than anything so I could say goodbye. And Reagan. I wondered what her baby would look like, how he would grow up. If it even was a he. I gazed up at the sky, imagining it was the same sky I saw in Portofino. I counted the constellations in my head until everything went cold.

 _Barney's POV_

"Did I just see you guys fight?" I ask Thorn a little bit after I see Brenna storm out. He groans.

"Over something so stupid. She's been so paranoid lately, it's driving me nuts, and I said something I shouldn't have," he mutters, ashamed. I frown.

"Go after her," I urge.

"She took her keys. She's probably halfway home by now," he grumbles.

"Thorn, go home. Talk to her. She's gone through a lot. Everything is perfect in her life right now. Of course she's freaked out, she's expecting it not to be," I advise, but he doesn't move a muscle.

"I understand wanting to give her some space. But I'm going to at least make sure she got home okay. You coming?" I ask. He sighs and nods, walking out with me. I'd explain to Christmas later why I bailed.

We get out into the parking lot, and Thorn freezes in his tracks. I run into him.

"What the hell?" I ask him. Then he launches forward with ferocious speed. And that's when I see Brenna, pale and lifeless, laying in a large stream of blood. Thorn checks her neck, and panic consumes him.

"No pulse. Barney I can't find a pulse!" he checks her wrists, her neck. I race over and do the same. He was right. She didn't have a pulse. She was dead.

"Fuck, no, no, no, no, no. Please, no. Brenna. Brenna, honey wake up," he sobs, a broken man. Blinding rage and searing pain slice through me like a hot knife, so much so that it winds me.

"Hey, why did I see you guys sneak out?" I hear Christmas behind us, but he's here in a flash. "What happened?"

"We just got out here, call an ambulance," I order. He whips out his phone. I rip off my tie and wrap it to her wound tightly. I take off my jacket and press it down too.

"Apply pressure," I told Thorn. He does so immediately. I start to do chest compressions, trying to revive her. But I didn't know how long she's been here, like this. Obviously not very long, but long enough to lose her.

 _Lose her. I could lose her._

"Come on, Brenna. I can't lose you. I can't," I hang my head, my voice shaking.

Pain and suffering beyond anything I've ever felt rips its way into my heart. I shake my head, actual tears forming. I've never cried in my life. But her skin was pale, her lips blue. She was actually dead. There was no close calls this time, there was no luck. She was dead. And she's been dead. Thorn keeps pressure in her wound but checks her neck for a pulse.

"Please, baby. Breathe. Come back," he chokes. My compressions slowed after a few minutes or so. She wasn't waking up. I'd lost her. She was gone. I felt the tears leak from my eyes as I began to accept what is. Thorn does the same, crouching over her body. He screams, and I can practically hear his heart shredding itself to pieces within his mournful yelling. I collapse on the ground next to her, putting an arm around Thorn.

The _one thing_ I have to keep from going pitch black. The only good thing I ever did with my life. And it's been ripped from my grasp so easily.

He launches up suddenly, looking at her hands.

"Did you..?" he asks. I look at her hands too, but don't see what he sees. He pauses, but checks her pulse. He takes a staggering breath.

"She's got a pulse!" he exclaims, reapplying pressure to the wound. I check her wrist. He was right. She had a faint, a very faint, pulse. And I heard sirens around the corner.

"That's them!" Christmas yells, running out into the street to flag down the ambulance. Everything then happened so fast, I barely had a moment to think. They had to life-flight her to the trauma care center. I took her Jeep to there with Thorn. Christmas and Lace rushed to the hospital in their wedding get-up. And Lace wasn't even mad. She must really like Brenna.

Reagan obviously followed, with Smilee. We were all waiting for what felt like hours for news. But Thorn and I weren't ready to celebrate anything until we heard the all clear from the doctor.

"I'm so sorry, Barney," he suddenly says, staring off into the distance.

"For what?"

"If I would have just _listened_ to her. If we hadn't fought… she never would have walked out," he scoffs, belittling himself. I shake my head.

"We all should have listened to her. I underestimate her, constantly. I should've known she had good instincts. And whoever did this has been planning it for a while. So she would've been attacked right under our noses eventually anyway," I mutter, closing my eyes. _My daughter is dead. She was dead._

The mantra repeated over and over. _I lost her. I still could._ It was like never ending torture. When would is stop? When would the image of her lifeless body in a pool of her own blown cease to burn into my eyes?

 _Oh, Brenna. I'm so sorry._

"I told her not to go anywhere alone," Reagan mutters, angry. I don't think anyone else except for Thorn and Christmas understand how close it was. That she was gone for a while.

"She talked to you?" Smilee asks. She nods.

"Briefly, at the wedding. She was anxious, worried. I told her if she really felt there was a reason to worry, then I believe her. And I told her not to go anywhere alone until we could talk to Barney," she sighs, resting a hand on her very small baby bump thoughtfully.

"Who could be after her?" Tool asks, grumping in his seat.

"Anyone. Literally anyone we've ever wronged," I mutter to myself. I haven't really opened my eyes since I've been waiting.

"Ross?"

My eyes shoot open, and I launch from my chair.

"Yes?" I ask hopefully.

"You're the parent?" the doctor asks tiredly. _Get on with it. Rip her away from me again. It won't be the first time. Won't be the last._ I quiet my dark thoughts.

"I'll tell you something; you raised a living, breathing little miracle. I don't know how she managed to fight so hard," he said, astounded.

Relief courses through my veins and douses the fire of grief that burnt my heart and soul in its blaze. I feel like I've only just been able to breathe again, and the breath I take is so deep it's as though the ash pile from losing her blows away. _She was alive._

"How is she?" I choke.

"Well, she lost sixty percent of her blood. So not great. But she's completely stable and she'll probably wake once the medication wears off. She'll feel pretty lousy though. She couldn't have been stabbed in a worse place. She lost a kidney in the process, she'll need a donor eventually. As of right now, however, she's functioning perfectly fine. We'll talk more about dietary restrictions and safety when she's awake. Here's her room number," he hands me a piece of paper.

I don't even turn to relay the information, I just launch myself toward the elevators. Thorn was quick in tow, likely eavesdropping. The elevators were taking too long, so I run up the stairs. When I get to the third floor, I race until I find her room number. I knock on the door, and a nurse peaks around.

"You're the father?" she asks. I nod, peering around her. _Get out of the way._

"Dad?" I hear Brenna croak. The nurse smiles and moves out of the way.

"She's been asking for you," she says warmly, leaving the room. I enter the room with Thorn and the others stay outside.

She was in her hospital bed, propped up on pillows. Her skin was white and bags hung under her eyes. She was sweating but she had a million blankets on top of her. Cold sweats. She was hooked up to a bag of A-.

"Hi," she says quietly, but doesn't smile. But seeing her alive was too much, and my knees nearly give out. I grab the end of her bed for support.

"Hi," I say back to her. Thorn doesn't hesitate, he rushes to her side, gathering her in his arms over her IV. She weakly hugs him back.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry I didn't listen to you, Brenna. I'm so sorry," Thorn sobs into her hair. She holds onto him. Her bloody dress was replaced by a hospital gown.

"It's okay," she murmurs. He shakes his head.

"It isn't. At all. Who did this to you?" he clutches her face, as if he'll never see her again. She leans into his hand, exhausted.

"Thorn," I say, shaking my head. She was too tired for this right now. He releases her and gently lays her back down. He takes her hand.

"Do you need anything? Are you thirsty?" he asks. She nods, closing her eyes faintly. It was eerie. She still looked dead. Of all the times she's been injured, wounded, or even almost dead, she hadn't looked this bad. Thorn gets up to find the doctor and ask about getting her some water. Then I manage to get over to her. She still hasn't smiled.

"How are you feeling?" I ask.

"Bad," she rasps. My heart sinks. She's usually so strong and tough. She never admits to her pain. I sit down on the chair Thorn was just on.

"I'm so sorry, Brenna. Everyone you talked to… we should've taken you seriously. You've always been in tune with your instincts and I should've trusted that-"

She raises her hand to silence me. It falls on my hand limp, her frail fingers lightly squeeze around mine.

"Jason," is all she manages.

"Oh my god," Reagan says behind me, scaring the hell out of me. She clutches a hand to her mouth, mortified.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"My dad. He attacked her. Probably some kind of revenge plot," she sobs, and Smilee hugs her close. But I was enraged.

"I should've killed that fucker when I had the chance!" I roar, standing. I was ready to leave and kill that miserable son of a bitch.

"Dad," I hear Brenna croak as I'm halfway through the door. I stop, but don't turn. "Stay."

It's all I need to hear before I'm by her side again in a flash. Everyone leaves the room.

"I'm so sorry, kid," I rasp, apologizing again. She swallows forcefully. I wonder what happened to Thorn and that water.

"Just stay," is all she manages, closing her eyes. She was obviously exhausted from fighting so hard for her life. And weak from the wound she managed to survive. She was sound asleep several seconds later. I cup her face gently, saying a silent prayer to whatever god was above that she was alive.

"Is she asleep again? I had to fight with the nurses to get her some damn water," Thorn mutters. He sets a pitcher and a plastic cup on her bedside table.

"She's so tired," I choke. He grips my shoulder.

"God she's so strong," he says, laughing without humor. I smile.

"I've always taken a small amount of credit for that. But it's Sabrina. Everything she is is because of her mother," I say fondly, wishing so much that she were still alive. So I can thank her for raising such a kind and intelligent woman.

"You still love her, don't you?" Thorn asks.

"Always have. Her and Brenna have been the only people in my life I could say that too. That's why I can't lose Brenna too," I explain, closing my eyes.

"Did she say who did this?"

"Yea. Reagan's father, Jason. I think the team is already on it though. I'm staying here," I tell him and he looks shocked. "She asked me to."

Then he looks even more shocked and says, "She's got you wrapped around her little finger, you know."

I laugh, a real one, and it felt good.

"I know. And what about you?" I look at him knowingly. He laughs, nodding.

"Always," he sighs. I would never say it outloud, but Brenna and Thorn were perfect for one another. I was glad they found each other. He stood on the other side of her bed, stroking her hair softly. It was silent for a long time.

"I want to marry her," he says suddenly. I freeze, hardly breathing. _Marriage?_

"You've only been together a grand total of what? Eight months?" I ask. He shrugs simply, not caring.

"She's the one," he says quietly. I know what he was after, he wanted my blessing. And for some reason, a short laugh bubbles it's way out of me. Both at the situation and his timing.

"Never in a million years would I have ever thought that this would happen. I mean, a year ago, we didn't even know her. And now look at us," I laugh. Thorn smirks, but the humor doesn't touch his eyes.

"She's easy to love," he states, smiling down at her. I look at her face as well, but lose my humor. _Yea, a year with us and she's almost died at least three times._

It was hard, knowing that none of this would've happened if it weren't for me. But at the same time, she would've been dead long ago if I hadn't been around. Her and Reagan would be buried somewhere by Wiley.

The thought of her being six feet under sends shudders through me. _She damn well got close this time._ It was the worst pain, the most indescribable pain, I've ever felt. It was like someone tore into my chest, gripped my black heart, and disintegrated it to ash. I was _too_ close with her. She's such a great target for anyone who wants to hurt me. Or Thorn. But there was nothing stopping that now.

"She'll be ok, Barney. She's tough. Always has been," Thorn murmurs, continuing to stroke her hair. But the question was, would it stay that way?

"I hope so. You take care of her well. She's always so happy with you. Around me she just worries," I sigh. We've fought so much since that night at Jason's. I regretted every second of it now.

"Well, I think it's because you won't even listen to her. She won't give up until you at least do that," he smirks down at his love, because he knows her well. I look at the adoration I see in his eyes, the crippling worry, and the pure and infatuated love. I sigh. I was going to regret this.

"Yes," I say. Thorn looks at me.

"What?"

"You have my blessing. I've got a few opinions on it, but it's not up to me. It's up to you and making it work. And if you think you can, then it's not my decision. So, yes," I exhale. Thorn smiles widely for the first time since yesterday.

"Do you have a ring?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"Nah, I don't know what she would like. She's very… simple," he says. I grin, because Sabrina was the same way. And I planned to propose to her as well before people started asking questions. And I still had the ring, somewhere…

"Why are you smiling?" Thorn asks. I shake my head.

"Because I've got the perfect idea," I tell him.

 _Brenna's POV_

I wake once more feeling completely, and utterly exhausted. I hadn't felt any better, the pain in my abdomen was unreal, and I still felt… off.

It was hard to explain. I was dead. And then I wasn't. I woke up scared, and haven't stopped since. I must've finally scared myself from almost dying. Every time I came close or became wounded, I always could tell I was going to be fine. But when I laid in the parking lot, I accepted that I was going to die. And then I did. And then I didn't. It was all so surreal. I wasn't supposed to be alive. It was so cold… and empty. And then it was over.

"Brenna?" I hear someone ask. I look over and Barney is looking at me, concerned. I hadn't realized I was crying when I woke up as he strokes away my tears.

"Hi," I say. He frowns sadly.

"What's wrong, kid? I understand that you're obviously in pain, but there's something else bothering you. Please tell me," he says. I glance down and see he's still in his tux. Or at least part of it. He hasn't even left to change. I shake my head

"Not right now," I tell him. I'm pretty sure I couldn't hold a conversation right now to save my life. He nods, but just looks more concerned. And he'll stay that way until I open up to him.

"I'm scared," I say quietly, closing my eyes. Barney grasps my hand.

"Of what?" he asks, ready to leap into action and save me from whatever I was scared of. But this time, it wasn't a physical being or even my own thoughts. It was just… death. The emptiness of it, how cold it is, and how quick you go.

"It's hard to explain…"

"Do your best," he encourages.

"It's… when…" I stop, unsure where to begin. "It was so cold. And I barely even had time to come to terms with… dying. How empty it is, how fast, and how… strangely peaceful it is. But it's so much harder to accept that you're dying when you have to say all of these imaginary goodbyes in your head to the people you care about that can't be there. And you have to do it before you take that last breath. And in reality, you've have less than twenty seconds after you realize that this is it. It's terrifying," I choke, tears forming again. Barney closes his eyes, regret sweeping across his facial features. His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath.

"I'm so-"

"Please stop apologizing. If I hear someone else say I'm sorry I may actually finish keeling over," I groan. He laughs.

"Never thought I'd be happy to hear your attitude," he squeezes my hand.

"Is she awake?" Thorn peaks around the corner.

"Hi," I greet him.

"Feel any better?" he asks. I scoff, and hiss when the pain radiates from my abdomen. He gets his answer and sighs.

"Your water is still here if you want it," he gestures to the besides table. But my limbs were so weak, I could barely lift them. I've never felt so pathetic in my life.

"I'll get it, you rest," Thorn offers, pouring it into the small paper cup. I sip it gratefully, and it soothes my dry throat.

"What time is it?" I rasp. Barney checks his watch.

"Just after 3 AM."

"You guys need to go home. I'm setup here," I point toward the door. Barney scoffs.

"Yes, not happening," he mutters, sitting back in his chair. Lee walks in.

"And how is the little lady?" he asks.

"Been better," I say weakly. He frowns, looking at Barney. He says nothing as Barney closes his eyes once more, pain evident on his face.

"Are you in pain? I can get a nurse," he gestures toward the door. He too was still wearing his tux.

"I'm sorry I ruined your wedding," I choke. His shoulders slump and he exhales.

"Darlin', that's the least of my worries. Even Lace was here in her wedding dress," he says. I laugh, because the image of Lace standing in the ER in a wedding dress was amusing. But as soon as I do, pain strikes through my body and I wince.

"Are you sure you don't want a doctor?" Barney asks. I shake my head.

"No. Just need rest," I mutter, closing my eyes again. He pats my hand.

"Okay," he whispers, and I start drift off again.

"Are you sure about this Barney? I mean, it's obviously important to you-"

"Trust me. This'll mean a lot to her."

"I still can't believe you ever considered proposing. I just can't picture it with you," the voice laughs. It was Thorn.

"Easy, kid. I used to have a heart too," Barney warns.

Just as quickly, I'm sunk into the pitch black abyss.

" _This is what being valiant and loyal gets you, Brenna!" Church explodes. I lean my head back and spit in his face._

" _I'm not a soulless monster like you, so do your worst you son of a bitch!" I snap. He grins, bugs crawling from his teeth._

" _Gladly," he says and stabs my chest, sucking the life out of me like the soul-consuming demons that dance in my head._

"Brenna?" Barney is shaking my shoulder, concern in his eyes. Thorn is next to me as well. I rub my eyes sleepily and realize my face is soaked, I must've been crying.

Lord, why was I having nightmares about my time with Church? I thought I'd killed and buried those demons. Come to think of it, when did I ever get nightmares?

Before Church took me. When I had a bad feeling something was going to happen. My instincts were warning me about something again.

"What's wrong? What happened?" I sit up sharply, and hiss when my abdomen shrieks at me. Barney pushes me down gently.

"Easy. What are you talking about?" he asks.

"Something is wrong. What is it?" I demand. Thorn and Barney share a look.

"It seems Jason and his buddies weren't satisfied with just going after you," Thorn says gently, and my whole body prickles with fear. _Reagan._

"Where's Reagan?" I breathe. Barney sighs, looking miserable.

"Shes here…"

"And the baby?" I ask, my unspoken and terrifying suspicions grip my throat like an angry fist.

"We don't know yet. Smilee was hurt too. They were leaving the hospital… and well… Jason was waiting in his van. He hit their car. They'll be alright, though. No serious injuries. But the physical trauma is bad for the baby," Thorn takes my hand gently. Anger like no other surges through my body, dowsing any fear I had and lighting a new kind of fire in my soul.

"Why wasn't he found before this?" I hiss.

"It hasn't even been a full 24 hours since you were attacked, Bren. He took off, we found him, and then we found he wasn't where his hideout was. And by that point it was too late," Barney explains. I notice my IV isn't attached anymore, which means my blood must be getting back to normal.

"I want to see her," I demand, sitting up again and ignoring the protesting pain in my abdomen.

"Brenna, no. Lay down," Barney barks, holding me back to the bed.

Fine, if he wouldn't let me leave, I would do this myself. I pretend to lay back down, acting upset and tired, and close my eyes. Barney stays with me, a hand on mine. I just had to wait for them to leave.

And it took forever. He must never leave my side when I'm like this. Thorn eventually leaves to go eat somewhere in the hospital but Barney stays.

"How is she?" I hear Tool ask.

"She's doing much better," Barney tells him.

"Good. Now go home and change. You look like shit and god knows it's not doing you any good being in that chair like that," he warns. _Yes. Please go._

"I suppose now is a better time than ever. I think Thorn went to get food, but I don't know if he took the Jeep or not. What did you drive?" he asks Tool.

"I took your truck. Come on, I'll drive you back," Tool offers and I hear the duo leave the room. I wait until I'm sure they're not coming back to move. I sit up, ignoring the pain, and look around the room. Barney left his hat here, but I don't think he's coming back for it. There's also a duffel bag sitting on the end table now. I quickly detach myself from the various monitors I'm hooked to, and stand. My balance wavers, and I clutch the bed for support. My head spins, but I grab the duffel bag and rip it open. It was full of my clothes and my purse.

I slide on a pair of dark jeans, my favorite black faded hoodie, my boots, and look in the reflection. I still look too much like a sick patient. I wash my face, slapping my cheeks some to add color. I wrestle my unwashed hair into a ponytail and put on Barney's hat. Now I looked better. I look down the hall to make sure no one I knew was coming back, and walk out undetected. I make my way to the ER.

"Hello, I'm looking for my sister, Reagan Phillips. She was in a car accident. Her boyfriend is also here, John Smilee," I ask the younger of the office assistants. She was naive, and I could definitely get away with lying to her.

"Oh, yes, of course! This way!" she directs me.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sure this is a difficult time," she says as we walk. _Less chat, more walk._

"How is she?" I ask.

"Better," is all she says as she gestures to the door in front of us.

"She's through there. Don't forget that visiting hours are only for more two-"

"Thank you," is all I say to her and launch myself through the doors.

She has her eyes closed, and she's got a few cuts and bruises on her face. But she looks healthy, all things considered. But they fly open at the sound of the door.

"Brenna!? What are you doing-"

"Sh!" I approach her bedside, quickly hugging her. She glares at me, astounded.

"What are you doing up? How are you even standing? Did you sneak out of your room?" she demands.

"I had to see you. How are you?" I ask. She shrugs, but doesn't seem too sad.

"Fine. John is too."

"And the baby?"

" _He's_ okay," she says, triumphant. I laugh.

"So, it's a boy after all?" I ask, relieved beyond all measure.

"Officially. Found out when they checked on him. I can't wait to rub it in John's face. I haven't seen him since we got here, but we've been texting," she gestures to her phone. I sigh.

"Reagan, I'm so sorry-"

"For what? Jason is a sick son of a bitch. I can't believe I ever thought he was harmless," she mutters.

"You couldn't have expected this. He was your father. You wanted him to be good. Some people just can't manage that, and that is _not_ your fault," I comfort her. She smiles and nods.

"You need to get back to your room. Barney will be so mad at you," she says, pointing to the door. I scoff.

"Whatever. I'll deal with it then."

"And Thorn?" she demands.

"He respects me enough to let me test my limits and choose for myself. He always has," I cross my arms.

"Yes, but this is crossing a line," she raises an eyebrow. I shake my head.

"Reagan, what happened?" I ask. She sighs.

"He came out of nowhere. Like he'd been waiting for us forever. He hit John's side of the car. It's a miracle he wasn't hurt more. But then he took off right after that on foot. The police can't figure out which way he went," she growls, annoyed.

"No, but I could," I start toward the door.

"Brenna, don't!" she yells, but I was already gone. The pain in my abdomen was unlike any gunshot I've ever had. I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes to catch my breath. Then I shoulder my purse, and head toward the parking lot carefully. I knew Thorn was around here somewhere, so I was careful.

I make my way out to my Jeep, get in, and pull out. And I know exactly where I'm going. When I get to Gabe's, my old home where I used to live with my mother, I'm almost overwhelmed with emotion from the memories in that home that were now tainted by the piece of garbage that lived in it. I check my glove box, and see that the gun has been put back. _Thank god for Barney._

I apologize to him in my head for doing what I'm about to do, but no one tries to kill a pregnant woman. Especially the one I care about.

I get out, knowing Gabe is too stupid to lock the door, and barge in. He's laying on the couch, both his arms have healed, and he looks stunned to see me. I raise my gun.

"Where is he, you stupid son of a bitch?!" I roar, and he scrambles to his gun on the stand next to him. I shoot his knee cap and he howls.

"You've fucked with my life for the last time. Where. Is. He," I pick him up by the neck, choking him with my gun in the other hand.

"You're… you're dead!" he gasps for air. I smirk. I had a feeling he would've been Jason's accomplice.

"Sorry to disappoint. I would say next time you should try harder, but there won't be a next time. Especially for you," I cock my gun. He mewls.

"Wait! Wait, wait! Jason's hiding out across town, in the basement of a bar called Stuck Pig," he whimpers. I scoff, knowing it would be so easy to get him to talk.

"Thanks for being honest with me. But this is for my mom, and it's something I should've done long ago," I hiss, and throw him to the ground. I point the gun to his head and pull the trigger, and he slumps to the floor as the inside of his head blows against the carpet. A weight I didn't know was on my shoulders suddenly lifts, and all I want to do is go back to the hospital and apologize to Barney. He was going to be so mad at me. But I had to finish this.

I walk back to my Jeep quickly, and start my journey to Stuck Pig. When I get there, I breathe in deep, trying to calm my nerves. I check my gun and see I have three bullets left. I only needed one. I fling myself from the car, my wound still stitched tightly. I breathe slowly and deeply, trying to sideline the pain that all this activity was bringing me. I could tell my body was getting weaker and weaker. Losing the majority of my blood takes a lot longer than a day to retrieve.

I take the back entrance to the bar, pausing outside the door. I hear voices on the inside.

"You _had_ to do this revenge plot, didn't you? You _had_ to try and go after them! Now we've got people on our asses that will definitely kill us if they find us!"

"They won't!" I hear Jason's voice say.

"And how are you so sure?"

"I have no paper trails that lead me here. They'd have to be some kind of super spies or some shit to figure that out," Jason gloats, thinking he's super smart. I smirk to myself, thinking how he wasn't far off. But regardless, he was an idiot to think some regular joe like myself, or I guess Jane, couldn't find him. I kick down the door, immediately shooting the man I recognize from the night they assaulted Reagan. He slumps over, dead. But that gives Jason enough time to reach for his gun. But I'm faster. I shoot him in the knee cap as well, and he falls to the ground howling in pain like Gabe.

"How the f-fuck are you alive?" he stammers, his eyes wide with fear. I shrug.

"I'm not done on this earth yet, evidently. But, you fucked with my family for the last time. So you're time on this earth is far over," I hiss.

"Wait! I'm sorry! Please, what about Reagan? I'm her father!" he cries. I scoff.

"Since when? Tell me, when you decided to try to kill her-"

"I wasn't trying to kill her! Just scare her, and it went too far! I regret it!" he sobs pathetically.

"Well when you did it, did you know she was four months pregnant?" I ask, and his eyes widen.

"S-she's…" he stammers off, shame plain in his eyes.

"Sorry, Jason. But it's too late to have any grandfatherly pleas," I snap, and just as quickly, put a bullet through his eye.

God knows what Barney would have to do in order to keep this under the radar and keep me from going to jail, but my guess is that he already had their deaths covered. I overheard a conversation he had with Drummer on the phone about Jason and his buddies.

It was weird how death didn't bother me anymore. I was stronger, braver than I was before I came to Barney. Hell, I'm a stronger person than I was several months ago. But Thorn helped me. He helped me realize I'd never take another life if it was to protect another. And he was right.

"What the _fuck_ is the matter with you?!" I hear Barney roar behind me. _Uh oh._


	31. Chapter 31

_Brenna's POV_

"Do you have ANY idea how FUCKING reckless and dangerous this was? Of all the things you have pulled in the last year, this has got to be one of the most stupid, irresponsible, self-destructive things you have EVER done. You escaped the hospital without proper doctors discharge, you killed two men that will have to be covered up, you aren't even _physically_ up to combat so even THINKING you could handle this makes me _this close_ to putting you in a mental institution. You could've tore your wound open, you could've bled out. They're could've been more of them, you could've been rushed, they could've killed you _easily. Fucking hell, Brenna!_ " he paces back and forth in front of me at Tool's garage, where the entire team was now. And they all glared at me with the same look Barney had. _Shit, I hadn't realize everyone would be this mad._

"I'm sorry," is all I say. He glares at me, a real one, and I want to shrivel in my chair. But I wasn't scared anymore, and I wasn't going to take being belittled. I stand from my chair, sticking my chin out and squaring my shoulders.

"I'm sorry for being reckless and risking my life. I understand it scared you and I understand that you're mad at me for being so impulsive. And those feelings are justified. But I'm not five years old, and I can handle myself quite well, contrary to how you treat me. You act as though I'm one thousand year old glass. Yes, I've had plenty of close calls. I'm sure you've had your fair share, in fact, I'd say you've had ten times as many I've had. I won't let you try to control me and what I think is best for myself anymore. If you can't trust me because of this, fine. But don't expect the same thing from me when you're halfway across the world, blind trust isn't exactly something I'm capable of. You've, I'm sure, done the same shit I pulled tonight. To save a friend, a family member. I would do the same thing, always. Because I'm _your daughter._ I know you hate admitting that we have the same blood that runs through our veins, but you need to accept it. Because I'm _not_ incapable, and I'm _not_ a liability. I'm strong, just the way I've always been. And I know that now. So whatever your fears are, _they aren't mine,"_ I implore calmly, not backing down. Everyone's faces change from anger and belittlement, to shocked and speechless. Barney's is the same, as he's been stunned to silence. So I then calmly walk out with my keys, headed back to the Jeep. I hear footsteps behind me, and someone takes my hand. I look up and it's Thorn, smirking.

"You aren't mad?" I ask. He snorts.

"Of course I am. Don't think you're off the hook. But I'll always believe in you, Bren. Come on, I'll drive. You hungry?" he asks. I laugh.

"Starving," I groan.

"I owe you a rain check for dinner," he winks, and I smile.

 _He's always believed in me._

 _Barney's POV_

I can't believe her. I couldn't believe how little thought she puts into her own safety.

"Barney, she has a point-"

"Don't fucking start," I growl at Christmas. He's always on her side, my own team is starting to think she's invincible as well.

"You're just bitchy that she did exactly what you would've done and you _still hate_ admitting to yourself that you're the same person. You need to get over your damn pride," Doc mutters. I glare at him.

"If you had a kid, you'd want them to be the farthest thing from you," I snap.

"And have you noticed that the harder you try to protect her, the harder you try to prove you're nothing alike, the more she pushes back? She just shows how much she is with a ten ton force? She's never failed to impress you, she's never failed to let you down, and she's always risen to the challenge. She's more than capable of coming with us-"

"That's what this is about with you guys? You just think her coming with us on jobs is a good idea? Because this is about her behavior today," I bark at them, feeling betrayed by their audacity.

"Oh, whatever. It will always come back to that, she's been fighting you on it for months," Caesar sighs.

"Might I suggest that you just train her a little bit? So she can get a sense of what she needs to know and see before tagging along?" Galgo suggests, and everyone looks at him, shocked. He actually had a good idea for once.

"I don't think that's a good idea. You'll put her through hell on purpose to scare her off," Christmas glares at me warily. But that may be exactly what she needs.

 _Brenna's POV_

"Work on your footing, Brenna! You're too busy trying to throw punches that you aren't putting up defense!" Barney barks from behind me. I grumble to myself as I'm knocked on my ass for the billionth time today by Galgo. He holds a hand out to me, smiling down warmly at me. I narrow my eyes, not trusting him.

"Sparring is over, I've already won. Allow me to help you up as a gesture of peace, please. Spaniards honor," he gives me a three finger salute. I smile and take his hand, and he helps me up.

"All good?" he asks. I nod, still smiling at his kindness. It was very much needed since Barney has become a pain in the ass. It was his idea to start the training once I had healed up, I don't know why he was being such an ass. But I had a good feeling it was because he wanted to scare me off. I would keel over before I gave in to that.

"This is situational training, Galgo. Not friend making time. Again!" Barney snaps. I turn around and roll my eyes, my body growing tired and burning from the excursion of training. But I wasn't backing down, I was going to keep going until I collapsed to prove a point. That I _was_ strong enough for this.

"Do not worry, Miss Ross. I won't hurt you," he says. I snort.

"I'd like to see you try," I tease, taking stance again.

"Less chat!" Barney snaps once more. _He's doing this on purpose to get into your head. Don't let him._ It reminds me of a time Church would use this kind of thing to fuel my anger during similar training, and thinking about that makes me mad. Really, very, mad.

Galgo charges at me once more, and I roll out the way. His leg swings toward my head so I crouch down, and I grab his ankle and twist. He loses footing and falls to the ground. I get behind him so he can't take out my legs, and roundhouse kick the side of his head. He falls flat on his stomach, and I've won. But as I turn to look at Barney with a gloating expression, Caesar sneak attacks me from behind, knocking me to the ground.

"Fighting is never fair. I doubt there'll be any situation where it's just you and one man of similar size and speed. You need to learn to expect the unexpected," Barney yells from his stance in the corner. Caesars blow was too rough, and when I hit the ground, the wind was knocked out of me. I wheeze quietly so Barney doesn't hear me and think I'm weak. Caesar frowns, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Brenna. I went too hard," he apologizes. I wave him off.

"Caesar! This isn't meant to be fair, stop checking with her and get her on her back!" Barney yells at him. Caesar stands, annoyed.

"You're just being cruel now, Barney. I hit her too hard, she can barely breathe-"

"This isn't supposed to fair!" he roars again.

"I'm fine," I stand, trying to breathe. But he really did knock me down hard, it felt like my brain rattled. Now Galgo approaches, sympathetic.

"At least let her get some water. She's been at this for hours with you," Galgo suggests.

"And we don't do the same? We aren't fighting for hours on end, without water, or break?" Barney snaps.

"True, but if she had to I bet she could. And regardless, this is training. You had her at this for hours this week, her body probably feels like noodles and-"

"Then it sounds like she needs to build stamina!" Barney barks at Lee, warning him against speaking out. I glare at him.

"I said I was fine. Let's do it again," I growl, walking back to my corner of Barney's training area he's set up in the airplane hangar of his plane. The majority of the team was here excluding Thorn and some others. I don't think Thorn wanted to see this, and I don't blame him.

"Brenna, you aren't fine. You need to take five minutes," Caesar glares at Barney, challenging him.

"If you won't fight her, I will," Barney narrows his eyes at Galgo and Caesar. They remain motionless, so Barney growls and rips off his jacket. _Great, this was a horrible idea._

"I'm _not_ fighting you," I cross my arms, refusing. Barney shrugs, apathetic.

"Well then you better defend yourself. Because this is happening," he charges at me and I roll out of the way, shocked. _Christ, he was really doing this._

"Barney, knock it off!" I yell at him. He continues to try and fight and I deflect his blows easily but it was wearing me down.

"You can't put up defense forever, Brenna," he warns, attempting to kick me back. _Like hell I could._

After I'd been knocked on my back for the millionth time by my own father, my strength was wavering. Every inch of my body felt like a bruise, it was dark outside, and my legs felt like collapsing. But I wouldn't give up.

"Barney, look at her. She's had enough," Christmas snaps, completely astounded that Barney was still trying to fight me. I still hadn't thrown a punch his way, I'd just been deflecting his. I refused to fight him. Barney whirls around.

"Not until she actually _fights back_ ," Barney seethes.

"Brenna, just give up! You can't keep doing this, you're going to collapse!" Tool warns. I shake my head.

"Not happening," I wheeze, clutching my ribs where I'd been kicked to the ground. I take stance again, but Barney is already coming at me. My strength was nothing it was three hours ago when he started fighting me, let alone when the training started.

"You're stamina is awful, your muscles are nowhere near strong enough, and your lack of willingness to commit to this is pathetic. If you're trying to convince me to take you with us, you're doing a terrible job," he tries to kick me again but I duck and roll. Something within me snaps at his words and a match lights a fuel soaked bonfire within me. He starts to deliver a punch toward my stomach, but I grab it and pull it toward his hip. He's not expecting the sudden move of offense, so I bring my knee to his abdomen. He doubles over, and I bring both my fists to his ears so that it pops on either side of his head to discombobulate him. I kick his right hip and he falls his his knees, and then punch him as hard as I possibly can across the face out of anger and humiliation. The sound of my fist cracking across his face resonates within the hangar. Even the team makes a few noises of awe. And I don't care if he's my father, I have more respect for myself than to be treated like this. He falls to the ground, clutching the side of his face.

"Is that what you wanted? You want to see me snap? See me break down? Because you won't. All you can see is that I will _never_ give up. I will put myself through hell like I have all week. I will turn my muscles into jello, I will grind my bones into dust, I will _fight_ until I can't breathe. And then I will _keep fighting_ because I'm _not pathetic._ And if you _ever_ infer that I am again, I promise I will come back ten times harder to prove that I am a _fighter!_ " I roar, as he gets back up on his feet clutching his jaw. He glares at me.

"We're done here!" I snap, starting to walk away. But as I do, I'm knocked on my side.

"We're done when I say we're done," Barney grumbles. I glare up at him, but I'm clutching the side when he tackled me. I can tell I'm injured, and my own father can't even see how wrong this is. I felt betrayed, and extremely hurt that he had done this to me.

"Barney, she's injured. This is your fucking _daughter!_ Look at her!" Christmas shouts at him hysterically, pointing to me on the ground. Gunnar goes over to help me up, but I wave him off.

"Ah!" I cry as to try to stand on my own. Doc rushes over and checks my side. He curses.

"Cracked rib. Come on," he puts an arm around me and pulls me up gently. I put an arm around him as he helps me limp over to a chair. Barney looks at me the whole time, and I can see the regret in his eyes. He instantly goes back to being a concerned father and not the merciless asshole that he's been all week. But it was too late, the damage was done. Both mentally and physically. The worst part wasn't even the pain. It was the fact that he was so far in his world, that he couldn't see how similar his treatment has been to that of Church's when I was in captivity. Over the last week, he's had me fighting and exercising all day and night without food or enough water. And now he's cracked my rib.

Gunnar brings me some water and it's the first I've had it all day. I drink it so fast that I'm almost sick.

"Great. You've dehydrated her and cracked her rib. Hope it was worth it," Christmas mutters as he walks past Barney who looks completely disgusted with himself. _Good._

"Anything you can do?" I ask Doc. He shakes his head.

"It's not broken, and the crack isn't serious. Feels like a small fracture. It's gonna hurt for the next couple of days, but after this week, you need that many to heal your body. Your muscles are taking in lactic acid," he sighs as he pokes and prods at me. I nod.

"I'm going home," I mutter, standing.

"I'll drive you," Barney offers. I take a step back.

"I'm capable of getting myself home, thanks," I mumble, grabbing my gym bag. I limp toward the door.

"Please, Brenna, just let me-"

"I said _no,_ " I snap, and it silences him. I shoulder my bag and storm out. The sticky, warm air outside is more than welcome, but it was heavily raining. I start heading toward the streets behind the hangar and call Thorn.

"Hey, have you been training this whole time?" he asks, concerned. The situation that I was just in overwhelms me when I hear his voice. A hand flies to my mouth as tears begin to leak from my eyes.

"Will you come get me?" I sob.

"What's wrong?" he asks, panicked.

"It's a long story. I got hurt. I'm okay, I just need a ride," I try to say evenly through my tears. I was already soaked from the famous summer rain of New Orleans.

"Uh, yeah okay sure. Where are you?" he asks.

As I look around, I realize I've been walking so fast to get away from the hangar that I didn't pay attention to how far I got or which directions I took.

"I don't know. I'm lost," I sniff.

"Okay, no problem. I'll trace your cell and be there soon. Just try to find a safer place than the open street to hide. Why isn't Barney with you?" he asks. More tears leak from my eyes.

"We fought. It's no big deal," I sniff but I can tell he knows it's not.

"I found you, I'll be there soon," he says and hangs up. I walk into a rundown coffee shop, limping my way in. I was soaked from head to toe.

"My goodness, you look like death honey. You alright?" A barista with a strong New Orleans accent asks. I smile at her.

"I'm ok. Long night," I say and she nods warily.

"Here, have a cup of joe on the house," she gestures to a bar stool and I take a seat. She pours me a cup of black coffee and I take it gratefully.

"You got someone to call honey?" she asks.

"Already did. He's on the way," I inform her.

"Well he better not be a reason you come up in here lookin' like this," she gestures to me, and I laugh.

"No, it wasn't him," I sigh. It was the other man in my life that likes to drive me to insanity. She bites her tongue and walks away, serving the only other customer in the small place. I drink my coffee, putting my forehead into my hand. I wince when I lean over too far, clutching my hurt rib. A tear slides down my cheek.

"I have painkillers if you need them," I hear Barney say behind me. I tense up immediately and whirl around. He raises his hands as if declaring defeat and sits next to me. I turn back around and look straight ahead, away from him. I hide my face in my cup of coffee.

"You should be drinking Gatorade or eating something. Coffee will make the muscles hurt more," he suggests softly. I snort.

"Now you give a fuck?" I jeer. But regardless, I set the mug down. The last thing I need is to be in more pain. Barney sighs.

"Brenna, I'm sorry-"

"I'm not interested," I growl, silencing him. Though I notice his jaw is incredibly swollen from my powerful punch, and it makes me feel a little better. _That's what he gets._ But unfortunately, he got the last word.

"Will you at least let me take you home?" he asks. I jerk my chin toward the door.

"Thorn is on his way," I clench my teeth together to keep from chattering. I was wearing a sports bra still and the rain on my body had cooled off and now I was freezing. Barney hands over my hoodie.

"You left this," he sets it on the bar. I weave my arms through the sleeves and hiss when I raise my arms to put it through my head.

"Let me help," he offers.

"Would you just leave me alone?" I snap, mainly because the pain was so sharp. The barista stops what she's doing and makes her way over.

"There a problem here?" she asks.

"No, I was just leaving. Thank you," I say, and walk out. I bite the bullet and pull my hoodie the rest of the way down. I shoulder my gym bag and walk back outside in the pouring rain. I pull my hood up.

"Brenna!" he calls behind me.

"I'd rather just go home and rest, Barney. I'm not doing this right now," I mutter.

"So I'm back to Barney now?" he tries to joke, but I don't even turn around to glare at him.

"I'm sorry. I truly am, Brenna. I can see how betrayed you feel when you look at me. I hate it. I took it too far. I don't know why, I just wanted to prepare you-"

"Bullshit!" I whirl around, and continue, "You wanted to scare me, you wanted to show me some of the worst so I wouldn't want to tag along anymore. You of all people should know that I would _never_ give up, because you're the same damn way. I've been telling you for a year now that we have the same blood. And you still can't accept that. Instead, you crack my rib like some deranged animal. What kind of person that claims he wants to help me would put me through physical excursion that way you did? The kind of mind games? The _pain? Do you see what I'm getting at here?!"_ I scream at him. He stops, thinks for a moment, and his eyes widen.

"Church…?" he guesses. He's made the connection between his behavior and the other lunatic that's put me through this. I turn back around, tears reproducing in my eyes. "Brenna… I-I'm so sorry. I didn't think. I was just trying to… to keep you from coming with us. But I can see now that you're plenty strong enough and capable to come. I've always underestimated you-"

"Forget it. You've got your wish. I won't come," I croak, tears gripping my throat. I'd do anything to keep from spending any time with Barney right now. I felt too heartbroken. I hear him take a sharp breath. Probably in relief.

"You don't have to do that, I'm saying you can come."

"And I'm saying I don't want to! I don't want to come, I don't want to keep an eye out for you, I don't want to make sure you're okay, and I don't want to be around you! So leave me alone!" I snap at him, tears flowing freely now. Thorn approaches in my Jeep and honks the horn. I fling myself across the street in the rain, throwing myself into the passenger seat. He regards me with concern.

"Just go," I rasp, buckling up slowly. He hesitates for only a second and then drives off.

When we get home, I start to try and get out of the Jeep but groan in pain when I shift toward the door.

"I'll help you," Thorn gets out swiftly and gently helps me down. "Do I need to carry you?"

"No. That'd be worse. I've got a fractured rib," I explain. He widens his eyes.

"You what?!"

"I get that you wanted to _help_ her, but this is seven layers of FUCKED UP, Barney! That is your _daughter!"_ Thorn was screaming on the phone with Barney, who called to see if I was okay. But I was laying on the couch trying not to cry. My muscles burned, like the drug that was once injected into me. Every inch of my body, interior and exterior, felt like it was boiling.

Mira and Reagan were here now, Thorn called them over to make me feel better. Reagan was getting bigger, and she was loving it. Mira had an official apartment a few blocks away, so I see her all the time now.

Reagan had a cold washcloth on my forehead and Mira was making some kind of tea that her mother used to make her when she was upset. It smelled amazing.

"Lavender and honey. Sweet and relaxing," she explains when she sets the cup down beside me. I smile at her.

"Thank you," I sniff, my eyes and nose very puffy from crying.

Reagan helps me up and I drink it slowly. It was warm and soothing on my ravaged muscles, and it soothed my equally torn soul.

"I'm sorry about all this," Reagan sighs, shaking her head. She was unbelievably mad at Barney. I think everyone was.

"I'm ok," I smile, but I can't even force it that much. Because I wasn't okay. Mira and Reagan put their arms around me gently. There's a knock at the door and I jump, narrowing my eyes at it.

"It's Doc," Thorn mutters, hanging up on Barney. He opens the door and Doc walks in, along with Gunnar, Caesar, Galgo, and Lee. Everyone I trained with.

"How're you feeling, kid?" Lee asks. I shrug.

"Fine," I lie. He gives me a look. "Like shit."

"I brought something to cheer you up," Caesar says, and hands me a bag. I open it up and it's giant Tupperware of spicy chicken chili from this dive I love by the French Quarter. I laugh.

"Thank you," I immediately open it and dig in because I haven't ate a proper meal all week.

"We came to apologize," Galgo sits in front of me.

"Why? You haven't done anything."

"We should've just kept our mouths shut. The only reason Barney was so worked up was because he was tired of us going against him in order to defend you. He's a stubborn, frustrating man, Brenna-"

"If you're here to defend his actions, kindly leave," I warn. Lee scoffs.

"Yea no, his actions are his own and we didn't invoke that. But we still feel bad. If we had just kept your training the way it was, he wouldn't have stepped up to fight you," Lee sighs. I shake my head.

"I don't blame any of you," I mutter.

"He does want you to come now though," Gunnar offers. I laugh bitterly.

"He wants me to come because he feels bad for what he did, not because he sees me any differently. If he wants me to come, it has to be because he can see that I'm not a child and I can take care of myself quite well," I grumble.

"The problem is that each time you start to change his mind about you being perfectly capable on your own in combat, you end up injured or… dead. He's been paranoid and looming ever since you were stabbed," Caesar explains.

"That was a month and a half ago," I say, exasperated.

"I know. But we've been on a few jobs since then, you've only fought harder to go with us, it's made him feel pressured. He didn't want to push you away anymore than he already has," Lee explains. I laugh without humor.

"Did he now? How did that work out for him? Or me, for that matter?" I retort. Everyone goes silent in agreement.

"We leave next week for a job in South America, if you change your mind," Gunnar mumbles. He wanted me to come, I could tell. I give him a friendly smile.

"It has to be real. I'm not being brought along as a pity case. He _has to_ change," I sigh, wishing for the impossible.


	32. Chapter 32

_Barney's POV_

"Barney!" I hear Christmas shout into the headset. I snap out of it.

"What?" I demand. He shakes his head.

"Back down to earth! You're flying a plane for Christ's sake," Christmas mutters. I sigh, gazing out the windshield.

I was horribly distracted before a job. It was going to get me killed. But maybe I deserve it.

What kind of father cracks his daughters rib cage to prove a point? Our relationship over the last four or five months had been completely dysfunctional. We fought, and instead of making up, we would just ignore that we fought. And then we would fight again and put that new layer over the last one. And then a pattern ensued.

The fighting I can handle. But I was completely stupid to think she would EVER just give up on the idea of coming with us. The only reason she wanted to was so that she could have the opportunity to protect us if need be. That's all she's ever done when she's fought someone or something; it was an effort to protect. And in her effort to make her point, I lost myself trying to prove mine. We bump heads, like two stubborn mules. And I hurt her, in every way imaginable, trying to prove my point. I should've known to back down, because her willpower was beyond anything I've ever seen. To think I ever accused her of being weak, pathetic, and unmotivated is astoundingly stupid.

"Have you heard from her?" Christmas asks, knowing it's what I was thinking about. My mouth twitches into a frown.

"She won't pick up the phone when I call. And the few times I've seen her at the parlor, she's been busy working. Her apprenticeship is going well from what I hear though," I sigh, wishing I could hear that from her.

"Have you tried going to see her?" he asks.

"Thorn warned me against it. He's not _as mad_ at me as he was… but he's not happy. I wouldn't be either, so it's fine. But he said she wouldn't take it well if I just showed up. I don't even know what that means… do you think she's scared of me?" I ask. Christmas snorts.

"There isn't much she's afraid of. No, I think she's heartbroken. You completely betrayed and belittled her, not to mention triggered her PTSD pretty bad… Thorn said her nightmares came back. At least she never remembers them," Christmas replies. My frown deepens. That was one of those worst parts; knowing that I put her through the same shit Church did. I shudder runs through me. I really was a dark son of a bitch.

"Stop. Don't blame yourself so hard. Besides, you need a clear head for this shithole we're headed to. Just call her when you get back, and if she doesn't answer, ask Thorn again to go see her," he mutters when he can tell I'm bothered. He was right, I needed to detach myself from my home life. I usually do before the wheels left the tarmac back in New Orleans. But I had a lot on my mind.

"Luna, take Smilee and Galgo to get to those Jeeps! We need them if we have any hope of getting the fuck out of here!" I roar into the COMs set over the gunfire and explosions. This really was a shithole, and we were pinned down bad. We cover Luna and the other two while they run toward our transport.

"Barney! The whole camp is set to blow any minute! We need to make a run for it!" Thorn shouts over to me. Christmas looks around.

"Kid, do you see a way we can run for it? Can't you jam the signal?" Christmas asks, panicked. Thorn looks back down at his computer. Then looks back up, hope lost.

"It's an underground wiring. There's no transmission," he says apologetically.

"It's okay- you guys make your way around. I'll distract them while you guys get to the Jeeps," I offer.

"Barney, it's set to blow soon-"

"So there's no time to waste! Go!"

"We'll swing around for you!" Caesar yells as he pulls Thorn to his feet. I cover them as they run toward Luna.

A man creeps up behind me, and I quickly take him out. They were starting to gain ground on me, cornering me. I see the Jeeps start up and start making their way over. But there was no clean way in, they'd be shot and blown to pieces before they could get over to me.

"Christmas! There's no way in without chopping those old rust buckets to pieces," I say into the COMs set.

"So what do you suggest?" he asks. I look around, trying to find some way out of this. But I didn't see one.

"Get as far away from the explosion as you can," I say, a little quieter.

"What? No, we're not leaving you!" he says back. I growl, pinching my nose in frustration.

"Unless you want to kill yourselves, don't even try it. I'm _ordering_ you to get far away," I say.

I start to hear a beeping noise, and I see that the Jeeps are still a decently safe distance away.

"Tell Brenna I'm so sorry," is all I manage before fire and fury explode before my eyes, opening the gates of hell for my arrival.

 _Brenna's POV_

"How long have they been gone again?" Mira asks. I count in my head.

"About a week. Supposedly today was the last day though. But of course you know I don't hear anything until they get back, usually. Thorn usually gives me a twelve hour notice as they fly back," I inform her, laying down my card. I take a swig of beer, sighing.

"How's the rib?" Tool asks, searching his hand. Mira, Reagan, Tool, and I were playing cards again. Tool and I had just finished a shift together and I stuck around to hang out. I missed the parlor and garage quite often, but wouldn't come around while Barney was here unless I had to work.

"Still a little tender. But I think it's mainly healed up. If I were to have any sudden movements it would probably break again," I inform him. It had been about a week and a half since the incident.

"Have you talked to…"

"Nope," I say simply, closing down that conversation lane. Tool sighs.

"I understand why… but maybe just call him and tell him that you need some more time?" he suggests. I take a deep breath, trying to be mature. But Barney really did cross a line.

"Fine. I'll call him when he gets back to make sure he got home okay. And I'll explain… I want some more time to myself," I exhale. Tool looks shocked at my sudden reasonableness.

"I-I really thought that would've been harder," he stutters. I sigh, smirking slightly as his shock.

"Being dead changes your outlook on life. Makes you reconsider how you waste your own time and others around you," I murmur, not wanting to speak much more of it. That, and though I'll never admit it outloud, I did miss Barney. He didn't hurt my rib on purpose, he would never intentionally aim to break something. But he still put me through hell for a week. Just to prove a point.

I think that's why I was still so hurt. He obviously didn't mean to hurt me so much and he definitely didn't mean to trigger any kind of PTSD. But he was willing to go to such far lengths to prove a point. Granted so was I, but I was only risking myself to do it. And it made me realize how dark he can really be, and I didn't like it. I didn't want to admit that he was like that on the job. It scared me. However, I've always known he's like that. He's just never actually directed his anger at me, and nor had I seen the full mercenary side of him. Maybe it just put me in shock.

He was still my dad, though. I still cared about him a lot. I always will. And I did bruise up his face pretty good, so it wasn't like he was the only guilty one. The problem that still remained was accepting how completely dysfunctional this father-daughter thing had become in the last five months. And it was like a tension rod that snapped and gave way… at the worst possible time.

Maybe I would try to talk things out with him when he got back. It certainly beats being miserable because I have to avoid him so much. Tool's garage phone rings, probably the team alerting us of their arrival. He stands, excusing himself, to answer the phone. Reagan eyes his cards mischievously, and I glare at her in good humor.

"No cheating," I tease.

"So what're you going to do?" Reagan asks. I sigh, thinking for a few moments.

"Probably try and work things out. I don't know... It won't be easy-"

"Brenna," Tool has rejoined our conversation, but his face is as white as a ghost and his eyes are full of remorse and fear. A ripple of terror crawls its way across my flesh, leaving painful goosebumps in its wake.

"What's wrong?" I shudder, knowing something had gone wrong. Someone was hurt. _God, please don't do this._

"It's Barney…" he rasps, placing a hand on my shoulder. A hand flies to my mouth, and I shake my head.

"Is...is he okay? Are they bringing him back?" I ask through the invisible hand that clutches my throat in fear and apprehension. Tool looks at me with pity, shaking his head. His eyes fill with tears.

"He's gone," he chokes.


	33. Chapter 33

_Thorn's POV_

"She's been that way since you guys called. Won't move. Won't even speak," Tool gestures to Brenna, who was curled in a ball on the floor of her old room. She was shaking, but not crying. And she had a vacant, eerie thousand yard stare. I approach her side.

"Brenna…" I put a hand on her shoulder and she suddenly snaps out of it, tears welling in her eyes.

"It… it hurts _so. much_ ," she chokes, collapsing against me. Her sobs turned into cries, her cries turned into mournful wailing. The sound of her pain was enough to make the heartache of losing our leader so much worse. I wrapped her tightly in my arms, but tears spilled from my eyes too. I look up and the entire team has arrived to check on her. But what they see is much worse than they imagined. A broken, torn woman. Her worst fears realized, she was now the only living member of the Arvelo and Ross family. Everyone was dead.

And a piece of her died with them.

* * *

The funeral was supposed to give her a sense of finality, maybe a way for her to move on. But it was an empty casket, and it still bugged her. I remembered the conversation so clearly.

" _So wait… you never found his body?" she asks, hope in her eyes. Christmas looks at her in pity._

" _We looked… but Brenna… the whole place went up in flames. There… there wouldn't be anything left," he says gently. Tool elbows him._

" _But there's a chance. We could go back. Try looking again. Maybe he got blown back far enough-"_

" _Brenna, even then, the proximity to the blast would have knocked him several hundred feet backward. He would've died from that alone. There are so many factors he would have to survive-"_

" _But it's possible, isn't it? I mean, we don't know anything until we have a body," she urges. It's the most I've heard her speak in days, I almost wish we could go back and look just so she'll keep speaking._

" _Darlin'... I know how hard this is. But, he's not coming back. And we need to-"_

" _Don't tell me to move on!" she hisses, closing her eyes in pain. Tool puts a hand on her shoulder._

" _I was going to say we need to mourn him and not hold onto the past. And you know he would kill you for trying," Tool says gently. She shakes her head, tears anew spilling down her pale face._

" _I c-can't give up," she stammers through her pain. I rise from my chair and hold her close to me._

" _No one expects you to. But he would expect you to live on. I know how hard it is-"_

" _We didn't even get the chance to apologize. And he's just… gone. So quick and easy, like ripping off a band-aid. But so much more painful," she sobs, clutching onto my shirt._

The entire team had our send off on the plane like we do for any lost man. But the funeral was mainly for her. And so that Tool could enact Barney's final will. He wrote one after Brenna was taken by Church, just in case by some miracle she made it back and he didn't. He wanted her taken care of just in case.

She stood in a black dress, standing in front of the grave marked as _Barney Ross._ It was next to her mother, because she wanted them together. She held onto her white rose, and though most everyone had left already to give her some time alone, they already put there's down. I was watching her from the bottom of the hill, making sure she was alright.

"How is she?" a voice asks behind me. It was Drummer, and I was shocked to see him.

"She's been better… what are you doing here?" I ask.

"Barney was a good man. If it's alright, I'd like to give my condolences to your lady," he gestures to Brenna. I nod, and he makes his way up the hill. They speak for only a few minutes before he returns back down the hill. "She's a strong, loyal young woman, Thorn. I hope you take care of her the way her father would expect you to," he sticks his hand out. I shake it.

"Always," I state. Drummer nods.

"David works with us now… I didn't mention that to her. But she doesn't really need to know right now. I just thought you should know, should the question ever arise. But I can see she's more than infatuated with you," he smirks. I don't.

"If she even gets through this in one piece. You didn't see… or hear the way she broke," I close my eyes, trying to remove the memory of her cries from my head. It was the worst sound that staind its way in my heart. Drummers smirk is gone instantly.

"Like I said, she's strong. I can tell how close their bond was, though I never got to see it myself. Just, hold on to her. She needs a family now more than ever," he says. I nod.

"So what happens to the Expendables now?" he asks. Now I smirk, because now it makes sense why he's here. He needs to know whether we're disbanded or not. I shake my head.

"We remain. He was our friend and leader, and we won't disgrace his name by ending things here. We'll honor his memory by keeping him and our brothers close by us in the firefight," I clench my jaw, refusing to let the pain of his loss keep me from being stable on the day Brenna needed me the most.

But it was so damn hard.

 _Brenna's POV_

Over a month had passed, and I've come to terms with the fact that the pain would never ease. But eventually the tears did, and I firmly believe I just ran out. I refused to look into his will until I was ready, and Tool understood and hasn't pushed it since.

I'd begun tattooing people for the first time, and I filled my schedule daily to keep me distracted and busy. But at night, pain and suffering emerge from their holes to take my heart and soul hostage in their shadowy breath of despair. I hardly slept anymore, and I hardly ever went home to Thorn's. I fell asleep at Tool's most nights. Thorn didn't take it personally, and it wasn't like I never went home. But sometimes sleeping at the parlor brought me a little bit of ease.

When they would go on jobs it would kill me a little inside. The fight that arose between Thorn and I nearly drove us apart. I couldn't stand to see him walk out the door. He came back five minutes later apologizing, canceling his departure until I was ready to be alone. I'd begged him to retire all night, but he said he couldn't while the pain was so fresh. Which I understood completely, hence why my schedule is so booked.

Every morning I would wake up, panicking. I used to wake myself up crying, now I just wake up in a panic and scare myself. It was weird how unprotected I felt without Barney around. But as soon as I started to feel the depression sink in, I would go for a run until my legs were on fire. The pain in my legs and arms from working out so often was the only thing that brought me any kind of awareness that I hadn't gone completely numb. Food was tasteless, jokes were humorless, and life was colorless. And I tried to be okay, for Thorn. But being strong for someone else isn't the same as being strong for yourself. Because it's just lying to yourself and putting off the inevitable. Like I was doing with Barney's will.

"Tool," I say, coming downstairs. He looks up from his corner, where he's painting like he usually does this time of night.

"Hey darlin'. What's up?" he asks. I take a deep breath.

"I'm ready," I choke, and he drops his brush. He spins slowly in his chair.

"Are you sure?" he asks gently. I nod.

"This pain… it never stops. It just gets lighter in the day and gets pitch black at night. So we may as well just do this and get it over with," I mutter, sitting down on my side of the parlor. Tool installed a brand new chair just for me and my clients. He nods, leaving the room briefly. When he comes back, he's carrying a safety deposit box. He hands me the key.

"I don't know what's inside. I know he left most everything to you. But he just told me to give this to you if anything ever happened," he murmurs, setting the box down in front of me. I swallow. "I'll give you some space."

I wait for the courage I need to summon in order to open the box, but it never comes. I sit in front of it forever, telling myself I'd do it in ten seconds. I shake my head, telling myself I'm being ridiculous, and key open the box. On top of it is a yellow envelope. Inside, a letter.

 _Brenna,_

 _If you're reading this, it means I've departed. I've sat here for an hour trying to think of what to write to you to make this difficult time for you easier, but all I can do is make sure that you're taken care of. I've left you everything I've ever accumulated in an account with the details disclosed within this safety deposit box. Hopefully it brings you some peace of mind. But I know it won't, because I know you and how hard you hang on to those around you. Like your mother. Please, please, don't mourn me as long as you did her. She deserved your time and love, I never did._

 _I know you're scared now, but you aren't alone. Ever. Just like your mother, I'll always be beside you every step you take toward your future. I hope it's as bright and beautiful as you._

 _And finally, please know that you and your mother were the best things that ever happened to me. If I ever did anything right in this life, it was you. And if I had to do it all over again, I would've been the father you'd be proud of. I hope one day you forgive me for the mess I've made of your life. But in my absence, make the most out of the rest of it. Make me proud, I know you will. You already have._

 _All my love,_

 _Your father._


	34. Chapter 34

Tears were coming down in buckets down my face, just when I thought that maybe I'd ran out of any to shed. He wrote this when I was taken by Church, and he felt this way all the way back then. I clutch my throat as it swells at the tears that wouldn't end.

Underneath the letter were the bank account details, with card access and a personal check book in my name. It said Ross, so he must've edited his will since I changed my name. And underneath that we're his dog tags. I picked them up, looking at them fondly. I would ask the team of course if they wanted to hang them, but for now I put them around my neck. I pause when I get to the last item.

It was a photo, an old photo, of Barney and my mother. And in his arms was a small baby, smiling widely with bright green eyes. I gasp. I turn the photo over and a hand flies to my mouth.

 _To Barney,_

 _With love,_

 _Sabrina_

I set the photo back in the box, and re-read the letter. I know he wanted me to move on quicker than I have… but he wasn't here to deal with the pain of his absence. And what upset me more was that he died thinking he wasn't the kind of father I wanted. He couldn't be more wrong.

But it wasn't the father figure I was lacking, I managed my whole life without one. No... I lost my best friend.

* * *

 _Two months earlier..._

Pain radiates from every pore of my body. Even the hair on my head ached. I groan.

 _I must be dead. This must be what hell feels like._ But if that were true, hell was for pussies. I open my eyes, and see that I'm in some kind of hut. I'm covered in blood, mud, and ash. My right leg has a bone sticking out of it, I have shrapnel wounds covering every inch of my skin.

 _I wasn't dead. By some miracle, I could get out of this._

I sit up, looking around at some kind of medical tent. A small framed, older Aruban women walks into the tent wearing a nurses outfit. She addresses me in the local tongue, Papiamento. I can't understand her.

"I'm sorry?" I ask, and she waves her hands in the air, frustrated. She kneels down beside me, and I realize by the ash and blood on her hands that she must've pulled me from the wreckage somehow. I look at her and make eye contact. "Thank you."

She must understand me, because she nods smiling. She gestures to my leg, and clamps her teeth down on her hand. She's signaling this was going to hurt. A man comes in after her, holding manmade surgical tools. I tense, realize they were about to fix my leg with me fully conscious.

It was days later and I still couldn't stand. But the bone was mended and fixed, the doctor knew what he was doing. I'll never forget the excruciating pain that accompanied open knee surgery.

But I was determined to make a fast recovery. I had an urgency to get home or make contact with anyone back home soon, and it was no doubt that Brenna already thought I was dead. Who knows how long I'd even been out here. But in the split second before I thought I was going to die, my thoughts were of her and Sabrina. And how I just wanted to apologize and start over. And more than anything, I wanted to see my daughter's face.

 _Stay strong, Bren. I'll be home soon._


	35. Chapter 35

_Thorn's POV_

"She's been through _enough,_ guys. We don't need to fill her head with hope. She's finally got a routine going for herself, she's functioning, and trying to not wake up crying every night," I grumble. Tool shakes his head.

"You don't understand. This frequency can only be accessed by our radio COMs sets at this distance by an SOS line. Unless someone has his radio and somehow also managed to patch it up, power it, and obtain the frequency, this isn't a coincidence," Christmas urges us. Everyone has hope in their eyes except for Tool and I.

"I don't think you realize what you're saying. There's no conceivable way he survived that blast from that proximity-"

"And Brenna said herself that it was possible. It was extremely far-fetched and improbable. But not entirely impossible. He could still be there! He's probably not 100%, but he's-"

"So what do you propose we do? March to Brenna? Tell her that Barney has a 2% chance of being presently alive, and ruin any progress she's made to her happiness?"

"Is that what you want to call how she's been living? She's been _surviving_ ," a very pregnant Reagan pipes up. I don't understand why she was here, she was the biggest risk to know this.

"We scout out the island again. Re-trace our steps. And we'll keep it to ourselves… I mean it. This does not leave this room," Christmas orders. I groan into my hand. _This was such a bad idea._

"Who goes on this scout out?" I ask.

"Just Caesar, Gunnar, and Toll Road. I want everyone else here to keep up appearances that no one is gone. She can never know if this turns out badly-"

"You mean _when_ it does _?"_ Tool grumps.

"What about the hurricane blowing in? Shouldn't you guys wait?" Smilee asks. We were under hurricane watch from a tropical storm blowing past Mexico right now. Christmas scoffs.

"It'll be a tropical depression before it can even reach here. We'll be fine," he mutters. I shake my head.

"I think you guys are reaching a little too far," I say, silencing everyone. Christmas clenches his jaw.

"I can't ignore this." He turns back to his plans and begins to look for places on a grid where the signal may have come from. Caesar approaches us, the younger team.

"Hey… I want you guys waiting in the hangar with Toll Road's utility monster. Christmas doesn't think this storm is gonna get bad but… well, I've seen how storms love the gulf. We'll need a stable ride to get back if somehow we make it back," he requests. This was getting harder and harder to be able to keep from Brenna.

But even I had to admit, I had hope.

 _Barney's POV_

Patching the radio took time. According to the med hut's wall, I'd been here well over two months. But finding a power source was impossible. I wasn't able to walk entirely or communicate with anyone, so I had to crawl around finding things that would power it. The only problem was that everything around the medics area was powered by batteries. The COMs set radio was powered by a charging station. So I had to re-patch it and re-assemble the interior to allow an SOS signal to be sent out from a battery power source.

But as I was laying down on the small cot, elevating my leg, I hear the familiar sound of a certain plane. I launch up in bed. _Is it possible?_

I grab the makeshift crutch I had assembled and lean on it as I walk out the hut door. I look up at the sky, and see a bright silver plane. With a skull on the side. I wide smile breaks out on my face.

"Hey!" I know they can't hear me but I wave my arms around frantically, also aware they can't see me. But they know I'm here. Somewhere.

"You're one lucky bastard!" Christmas shouts happily over the planes engine on the tarmac. He grips me in a tight hug. I laugh, returning it. Gunnar, Toll Road, and Caesar do the same. I peak around them.

"Where is everyone?" I ask, hoping to see someone specific. They help me hobble onto the plane.

"Back home. We couldn't risk everyone leaving, Brenna would ask questions and we didn't want to disappoint her if we were wrong," Christmas explains, grinning.

"H-how is she?" I ask. Christmas' jaw tenses, and he hesitates to answer.

"That bad?" I ask.

"She's… in a lot of pain. And she's buried it," he explains. I frown, worried that she'd even mourned for this long. I wasn't worth the time. Christmas slaps my shoulder, and I wince.

"Come on, there's someone at home that misses you," he grins. _I'll be home soon, Bren._

We load back up the plane and instead of flying, I rest in the back. I had a long day of apologizing to do ahead of me.

"Barney!" I hear Christmas call from the cockpit. I groan and limp up to the cockpit.

"What?" I demand.

"Well… uh…"

"Christmas is an idiot and thought that the tropical storm blowing across the gulf would dissipate and instead it's a category 1," Caesar says, annoyed.

"It's headed for New Orleans?" I ask. Christmas sighs.

"Yeah. I'm sorry Barney, I don't think we'll make it-"

"Sure we will," I take a seat in my spot. I was getting home today whether I had to fight hurricane winds or not. She needed me.

 _Brenna's POV_

 _The parlor was grey, bathed in noir lighting. It was quiet. The door behind me to the garage opens._

 _It's Barney. I run to him, wrapping my arms around him tightly. He laughs, doing the same. My vision turns pure white, as happiness warms my heart._

 _Then, he's ripped from my arms, and his suddenly lifeless body slumps back on a pile of dead bodies. Thorn, Reagan, Tool, Christmas, Luna, Gunnar... the list was endless._

 _Now that he was gone, it wouldn't be long until they are, too._

I launch up from the my parlor chair in a panic, sweating profusely. I gasp for air, pulling my messy black hair out of face. Tool gets up from his chair and walks over.

"Hey, it's okay. You're here, you're safe. Christ kid, you never sleep through anything," he pulls me into a hug while I try to catch my breath. I've lost my entire family, and now my subconscious was telling me that eventually I would lose everyone else too. I shake my head.

"They're getting worse," I rasp, putting my head between my knees as I fight a wave of nausea. Tool rubs my back gently.

"Need some water?" he asks. I nod and he gets up. Thunder cracks overhead, and I frown. The wind outside was ferocious too and I could hear the intense rain outside.

"Is that Tropical Storm Nora?" I ask. He sighs.

"Nope. That's Hurricane Nora. She just reached category 1," he looks around at his parlor and I can see while I was asleep he boarded the windows and doors.

"Shit! I need to call Thorn," I jump up, realizing I'm locked in until this was over.

"Good luck. I can't get anyone. Cell service is shit. Try the landline," he gestures to the phone on the wall. I race over to it and dial his number. No answer, which was odd. He always answers, and I'm sure he would be worried about me during this.

"No answer. Where is he? Actually, where is everyone? I haven't seen them in like two days," I mutter mainly to myself.

"Well, not to sound like an ass, but you have been pretty MIA. They're probably preparing for the storm," he explains. I frown.

"And what about Thorn? He'd be questioning where I was during a Cat one hurricane… Tool are they on a job?" I demand.

"No, they're not. He's probably just busy, hun," he excuses but turns away to avoid my eyes. _What the fuck? They were on a job, and he didn't tell me? Why did no one tell me?_

"I'm not an idiot. Something is up. Where is everyone?" I demand. Tool sighs.

"Nothing is up. You're just paranoid because of the storm," he mutters. _Paranoid my ass._

"Fine. I'm going to my room to check on the window," I inform, and he nods looking relieved. But I had ulterior motives.

I get to my room and quickly dress in leggings, my good running shoes, a thermal, and slick my hair back into a ponytail. I go to my window and check the wind. It was intense, but no more than about 60 mph. We were just getting the tail of the hurricane now, the worst would come later. So, like the idiot I was, I climb out the window onto the fire escape and into the frigid rain and ferocious wind. I shield my eyes and begin to run, using alleyways instead of streets to avoid the worst of the wind.

I could barely see in front of me, but I knew this city better than anyone I know. I know how to take the back alleys to downtown where the airplane hangar was. Fighting the wind was monster on my already constantly sore muscles, but if I could run sixteen miles in a day in perfect weather, than I could run nine to get to the hangar in this shit. Rain beat and pummeled my face, the wind jerked my body around. A gust blows me off my feet, and I groan. But the hangar was solid concrete- it was going nowhere. It would provide good shelter for the storm once I got there. _And if anyone was there, there would be hell to pay._

I finally see the airplane hanger, and when I squint, I see the silver plane landing. I grit my teeth, annoyed. _They had been on a job._ Notably, I wasn't aware Christmas could pilot that thing through this weather. It was insanely dangerous. Granted, so was what I was doing.

I sprint the open street to the hangar, and jump the closed gate. The plane had just pulled into the hangar when I whip open the door and run in. I know they can see me now, but I stop and brace my hands on my knees, breathing heavily. My muscles would definitely hate me tomorrow. The rest of the team was here already, waiting in Toll Road's utility truck.

"Brenna?! Did you run here? Are you insane?" Thorn shouts over the plane powering down. I glare at him. He was in no position to talk down to me.

"You went on a job? Without telling me! I understand that I've been kind of MIA but cutting me out entirely? What the _fuck,_ Thorn?" I demand, yelling at him.

"Brenna, it's not what you think," Lee says behind him, trying to calm me.

"Don't start, Lee. A simple phone call would have sufficed. And then you fly back in this storm! Are you a _moron?_ " I roar.

"I had help…" he trails off, looking at the plane. But I don't see who he's referring to.

"Who?" I demand. Thorn hesitates.

"You need to get on the plane, Brenna," he says gently. I'm surprised by the tone of his voice, and the way he takes my hand and leads me over to the ramp. Everyone is off the plane, so I'm questioning why I have to do this. And then it strikes me.

 _They were looking for him._

I bolt up the ramp, and into the plane, looking down the benches. My eyes don't adjust to the darkness of the plane and I can't see anything.

"Hey kid," a familiar voice says behind me. I stop dead in my tracks, not even turning around. A hand flies to my mouth to keep from sobbing. I shake my head, clutching my shaking hand to my face. My legs and arms burn with exhaustion, they weren't up to the task of holding me up. Especially if this was real.

"No. No, this isn't real. It can't be. I must be sleeping again," I sob, clutching my chest to keep my heart from ripping out. I feel a hand on my shoulder, but refuse to turn around. It would be too real then. And once I saw him, I would wake up. Crying, panicking, and completely destroyed.

"Please turn around," he says gently, and because I can't resist the temptation, I spin slowly. I take a staggering breath when our eyes meet and throw my arms around him. Something clatters to the floor, and he grips me back just as tight. _He's here. He's alive._

"Oh my god, how-"

"I'm a lucky son of a bitch," he laughs, his voice choked and relieved. His arms tighten around me and he picks me up. I cried into his shoulder, trying to ask more questions, but I start to shake and shiver. The rain that clung to every inch of me now felt frozen, and Barney releases me. He takes off his jacket and hands it over.

"You're in shock. You need to sit down and breathe," he leads me to a bench on the side of the plane and sits down next to me. But I was already shaking uncontrollably from the grief and pain that my body has been through over the last two months. Every tear shed, every sleepless night, every nightmare I've had, and every pitch black moment ran through my head like a movie on fast forward and repeat.

He pulled me into his arms, trying to soothe me. The hurricane outside really begins to roar loudly but all I can hear is my own heart pumping in my chest, throbbing in my ears. A sudden wave of nausea and searing pain in my head causes my shaking to intensify. My sobs turned into heavy weeping, like Niagara Falls poured down my cheeks.

"Ssh, Brenna… it's okay. I'm alright. Just breathe," he tries to calm me. I shake my head, gripping him tightly so he can't be ripped out of my grasp again.

"You… you were gone," I stammer, trying to explain why I was such a wreck. He shakes his head, pulling back and lifting my chin. He wipes away my tears.

"Did you not read my letter? I'll _always_ be beside you. Dead or alive," he implored, holding my face in his hands. It's too much, and I sink to the floor, putting my head between my knees. If I didn't calm down I was going to throw up or have an asthma attack. Or both.

"Brenna… I'm so, so sorry. I didn't want you to feel like this… I never wanted you to mourn this much," he chokes when he sees what state I've been in since he's been gone. My head snaps up from the floor and looks at him.

"Of course I did! You're the only family I have left, dad. It's just you and I now, and then you were gone and-"

I put my hand to my mouth to silence myself, before I start to get even more nauseated. He crouches down next to me, holding me close to his torso.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. More than you know, for everything. For fighting so much, that day in training when I hurt you, and for leaving you. Everything. I've put you through so much, and I'm so sorry," he apologizes, sounding remorseful like I was the one who died.

We stay like that for a while, and eventually my shaking ceases. He helps me off the floor, but I'm still in his arms.

"I love you, dad," I croak, wiping my face. He sighs.

"Love you too, Bren. Always have. Always will," he murmurs, rubbing my shoulder.

Glass shattering outside the plane grabs my attention and we both walk out of the plane. Everyone is looking at the window way up above that has been blown out. The hurricane roared outside, the entire hangar vibrated from its force.

"We need to get to shelter. Now," Barney says, leading me down the ramp. Thorn approaches, smiling warmly.

"Good surprise?" he asks. I have about a million things I want to say, but instead I just walk into his arms. He sighs and holds me close.

"Where should we go? Tool is already boarded up and locked down," I explain.

"How did you get out?" Caesar asks.

"Fire escape," I say sheepishly.

"Either way, we don't have enough time to get there. The storm is getting worse by the minute. We need to get to one of the high rises," Barney orders, and I notice he's walking with a crutch.

"We brought your truck and Toll Road's monster. We think it can brave the water," Gunnar says. I frown and look up at the busted window. I shake my head.

"Wind would take it out. It was only sixty miles per hour when I started to run. It got worse as I went. Right now it's probably close to ninety or a hundred. Hard to tell. You could have the best vehicle in the world and still get sucked into storm surge. It was just beginning to rise to my ankles when I was out there," I inform, putting my hands on my hips. I paced back and forth. _Think, Brenna. Keep them safe. Where do you go?_

The hangar suddenly loses power, and I begin to question it, but I look down below where our electrical box is, by the plane's wheels. While we'd been talking, the storm surge had risen substantially.

"I'm gonna guess it's past our ankles now," Mars grumbles. Then it hits me. I turn to Barney.

"Do you still have the jet skis?" I ask. His eyes light up, and he nods.

"Good thinking, kid. You'll have to go fast enough to keep the wind from knocking you out. But that could work," he says, running off with Christmas to get them started.

We only had four, and with the rest of the team, we had to take trips.

"Which high rise are we headed to?" I yell over the howling wind as he helps Smilee onto the ski. I was driving one of them, Thorn was on my back. I was surprised Barney let me drive them, but I also was very experienced at driving these. Reagan and I used to rent them every summer for fun.

"Central Business district is the closest to here. We can head for one of those buildings!" he tells the three of us driving the skis. We nod and whip around the skis. I gunned the accelerator to fight the wind and pull out in the lead. We start to take trips to bring people from the hangar to the business district.

"Who's left?" I yell to Barney.

"No one! We just have to put your ski back and take mine here," he yells to me. I start to follow him when I hear faint screaming. I slow down and circle back, trying to find where it's coming from. Barney was already much ahead of me, he couldn't afford to slow down and wait for me. I look around among the scene of submerged cars, and notice one that was almost entirely submerged. And a young woman was pounding on the window to get my attention. I speed over to her. She holding her small child, tears streaming down her face.

"Crouch your legs on the seat, and when I tell you to push out, push as hard as you can and take my hand. Hold onto him for dear life," I scream into the window. She nods, getting into position. I grab a piece of debris floating by, and make a counting motion with my hands. On three, I smash the window and she pushes out with her feet before the water goes into the vehicle and traps her. The glass cuts into my hand and I wince as I grab her hand and swing her onto the ski. She secures her child safely between us.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

"I'm okay! Thank you so much!" she cries. I nod, and speed off toward the buildings again for safety. I get to the first one and help her inside, and she assures me she can make it up higher on her own. She thanks me once more and I speed back on my jet ski toward the hangar. But when I get there, the hangar is partially collapsed. I dock my ski and look around wildly for Barney, climbing the stairs to the upper level. The wind nearly takes me out but I grip the railings. His ski wasn't here, and I doubt he would've stayed here to wait on me. He was probably already back at the building. I run back to the lower level that was nearly submerged now, and right as I do, part of the left side of the hangar gives out. It comes crashing down toward me and I jump back onto the stairs. Concrete falls onto the stair railing and it snaps the bolts holding it to the upper level where the plane ramp was. The stairs detach and rip downward as the concrete begins to bow their weight- with me on them. I'm dragged down onto the water as the steels stairs collapse onto my left leg, trapping me in the rising storm surge.

I panic and tug on my leg, but it's firmly trapped between two pieces of steel. The stairs and myself were slowly beginning to flow out of the hangar to join the water that flowed rapidly outside. A levee must be down somewhere along the industrial canal that would've caused this much water so rapidly. The stairs shift, and my leg is pulled down further and my body dragged underwater.

It was nothing but black, I couldn't see a thing. I tried to get my leg out as I hold my breath, fighting like hell to escape this. _This can't be how I go out._ I give my leg one last jerk and my left leg frees. I swim to the surface gasping for air and that's when a hand firmly grasps my arm and pulls me out of the water. I look up wildly through the wind and rain and see Barney has lowered himself from the plane using a rope.

"Grab the end of the rope and I'll pull you up!" he shouts to me, gesturing the rope that was in the the water following the water current. I dropped back down into the water and grabbed the rope quickly. Barney climbs back into the plane and I feel the rope begin to tug upwards. Eventually, I'm on the plane and coughing as I try to breathe.

"Oh my god," I gasp, winded from fighting the water. He puts a hand on my back, and helps me up.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. What are you doing here?" I ask.

"My jet ski ran out of juice. When I saw you weren't behind me I panicked, I thought something had happened to you and I didn't see it. But I couldn't get back out there to look for you. I nearly got sucked into the storm surge, I had to abandon my ski," he explains.

"Half the hanger just collapsed on mine," I exhale, catching my breath. His face falls, and he seals the door behind us.

"Well then we're stuck out here," he sighs, water sealing the windows and exits of the plane. The plane was equipped to float on water should they ever have to land in the ocean. He closes and locks the cockpit, sealing it air tight like the rest of the plane. Hopefully it can float.

"I'm sorry dad, there was a woman and her child trapped in their car. He was just a baby, I had to help," I explain. He smiles fondly.

"It's okay. I'm glad you helped them. You're a good person, kid," he slaps my shoulder, sitting down on the bench. I sit beside him.

"What now?" I ask. He sighs.

"We wait it out. Hope for the best. Pray the levees don't give out like Katrina," he mutters. I nod, remembering that time. We lost everything, but my mom decided to stay here. Now I know why.

The plane creaks and groans in the wind, and I wrap my arms around my legs in worry. I shiver in the complete darkness that the plane was in, only illuminated by the oil lamp Barney lit.

"Don't worry. She's a tough plane. And she's saved my ass plenty. We'll be fine," he assures me over his cigar. I nod, but remain a little scared. Storms always freaked me out, even when I was little. Thanks to Katrina. He gets up from his spot and sits next to me, wrapping a blanket he's retrieved around my shoulders.

"How're you feeling? Nothing broken or anything?" he asks.

"No, thankfully. I just got trapped and dragged down," I sniff, my nose running from being cold. He snorts.

"Yea well maybe try not having such shit luck," he avows. I glare at him.

"Ditto," I mutter. He chuckles.

"Fair enough, kid."

"Why do you even wear a lucky ring if it doesn't work?" I grumble. He sighs.

"We're still alive, aren't we?" he counters. His words ring in my head, echoing off the plane walls it seemed. I heard them over and over. _We're still alive. We're still alive._ Barney's voice snaps me out of my internal world.

"What have you been doing since I've been gone?" he asks. I snort.

"Nothing. I started actually tattooing people. But that's about the only development. Reagan's about to pop, she's due next month," I chatter, wrapping the blanket around me more. I hope she was somewhere safe. The plane suddenly lurches an inch or two, scaring me. Barney looks around, putting an arm protectively around me.

"And how's the tattooing going? You like it?" he asks, but he's still looking around the plane to make sure we're safe. He was just trying to distract me to keep me from being scared.

"I like it," is all I manage.

"And what about all this?" he asks, poking my bicep. I laugh.

"I've been trying to keep busy… I'm sure you can guess why," I joke, but a fresh wave of pain slices its way across my chest. I swallow loudly.

"I had no idea you'd be so…"

"Distraught? Mournful? Depressed? Utterly heartbroken? You name it," I mutter. The plane lurches forward again, this time farther. I tense up. We weren't safe in this thing, but we didn't have a choice. Barney looks around.

"You shouldn't have been. I'm not worth the time-"

"Don't start," I warn.

"I mean it, Brenna. You aren't supposed to let something like that destroy you-"

"And if I died? What would you do?" I demand. He sighed.

"That's different. You have a whole life ahead of you, the world to see, and a warm heart. I'm… well, I'm not you," he explains. I shake my head. The plane shifts again.

"You're my _dad._ I… when I thought I'd lost you, a part of me went with you. Everything felt grey and lifeless. Of course I was devastated," I whisper quietly, closing my eyes as pain resurfaces. The plane jerks and I suck in a breath. Barney's hold on me tightens.

"Well if we make it out of here, I promise I'll never leave you again, kid," he promises. I nod, scared now that the plane wouldn't hold much longer.

We were in for a long night.


	36. Chapter 36

I jerk awake when the plane suddenly groans and lurches forward, scaring me.

"It's okay, she's been doing that for a while now. I don't think we're in the hangar anymore. Must've drifted somewhere and we're caught on something," Barney says, still keeping me close to his side. I'd accidentally fallen asleep on his shoulder, and it was a little embarrassing.

"I'm surprised I dozed off. I'm sorry," I mutter, going to move away. But he still had his arm around me in a protective manner. Each time the plane made a noise or moved, his grip tightened.

"I didn't mind," he shrugged.

"How long was I out?"

"Couple hours at most. I don't have any reference of time," he informs me.

"Do you think they're freaking out?" I ask, sighing. He frowns.

"Probably. Hopefully they would've known better than to go out and look," he says. I scoff and pull my hair back out of my face. Barney frowns and grabs my hand. "How long ago did that happen?"

My hand was covered in dry blood that accompanied a nasty looking cut.

"Oh. Probably from when I broke the car window to get those people out. It's fine. Doesn't hurt," I mumble, pulling my hand away. He gets up quickly and pulls down a first aid kit.

"Let me clean it up," he offers, taking my hand gently. He wets a cloth in alcohol and begins to wipe up the blood. His eyes catch something around my neck, and he reaches forward. He pulls the chain of his dog tags, pulling them out from under my thermal. He looks at me.

"I couldn't bring myself to hang them just yet. The team understood. I would've given them to Lee eventually," I explain. He shakes his head.

"They were for you, not them," he mumbles as he gently cleans my hand.

"And that money was for you, not me," I sigh. His head snaps up.

"Did you not finish setting up the account?" he asks, bewildered. I shake my head, frowning.

"Believe it or not, taking your money was the last thing on my mind when I thought… well, you know," my voice turns into a whisper and I swallow loudly. He releases the dog tag and pulls my chin up to look at him.

"I wasn't worth it, Brenna," he tells me. I shake my head.

"I can't believe that. You're not as dark as you think," I deny. He frowns and returns to cleaning my hand. I hiss when he gets to the cut. "Sorry… how're you and Thorn?"

I sigh. Probably not great. We had some things to talk about.

"Honestly? He's probably upset with me," I sigh. Barney looks up.

"Why's that?"

"Well… I kind of unofficially moved out and back in the garage," I sigh. Barney raises a brow.

"Um… why?"

"Long story," I mumble, not wanting to relive the pain and suffering of those days. Especially to the person responsible. Barney sighs.

"If this is about me-"

"It's not. I just… it's complicated. It started when Christmas took a job that kept everyone away for three weeks. My guess was he was trying to keep busy, the same way we all were. You know… try to keep everything pushed out of our heads. I was already working at Tools, and I was in no state to be alone. Mira and Reagan offered to let me stay with them. But I honestly felt more comfort at the garage. Especially with Tool around. Anyway, Thorn and I fought a few days before he left for yet another job. A bad fight, actually. After you died, or I guess I thought you'd died, I wanted him to leave all this behind more than ever. I couldn't lose both of you. But he said he couldn't while the pain of losing their leader was so fresh. It was a bad fight… we said things we didn't mean. He just wanted to be there… for the team. I understand that now. But it was still hard. And I'm sure he understands why as well. But he stormed out, and I didn't see him until a few hours before he was supposed to leave. He cancelled going on the job and stayed with me. But then he left the following week and I just moved out. I hated being alone, and I hated watching him go. It was easier to be at the garage," I explain. Barney swallows, bandaging my hand now.

"I'm sorry you were in so much pain," he says quietly. The plane groans and tilts heavily to the left. I brace myself on the bench, looking around. The plane kept twisting and Barney helped me up.

"Stand with your feet braces apart, to keep your balance," he holds onto the grate above our heads, and I do the same. I close my eyes tightly, wishing more than anything that this was over soon. The plane eventually levels back out and I take a large exhale of relief.

"It's probably just storm surge. The wind is winding down," Barney explains. We sit back down and he rests his leg.

"What about you? What happened to your leg?" I ask. He chuckles.

"I survived an explosion that knocked me back several hundred feet-"

"I knew it!" I beam up at him, and he raised his eyebrows. "I held onto the idea forever that you were knocked back from the explosion- and that you were alive. Lee was quick to shut that down," I comment, smirking because I was right.

"You need to fix things with Thorn. He's a good kid," he mutters suddenly. I smile fondly.

"Is that a father's blessing?" I tease. His eyes widen.

"You know about that?" he asks, bewildered. It was my turn for my jaw to drop.

"He asked you for a blessing?" I squeak, embarrassed. Barney's face goes red and he looks away from me.

"I didn't say a word," he mutters, equally embarrassed. I crack up, knowing how awful that must've been for Thorn. But that also meant I was expecting a proposal someday. Of course, it hasn't exactly been a good time for this recently.

"It's good to hear your laugh again, kid," Barney rests his head back on the plane wall, closing his eyes. I stay as silent as possible until I hear faint snores coming from him.

It was scarier being the only one awake during this storm. The plane shifted and swayed every once in a while, but Barney was right. The winds were dying down. Eventually, I was able to relax and dozed off again as well.

"Brenna. Brenna, wake up," someone was slightly shaking my shoulder. I groan. I didn't want to wake up and realize everything was a dream. Another nightmare, telling me he was alive.

"Go away," I mutter, and realize I'm on a cold, hard surface. I launch up, looking around at my surroundings. And then I remember. I take a staggering breath, pushing my wild hair from my face.

"You okay?" Barney asks.

"Yea. What's up?" I croak, dying for some water.

"You… you were having a nightmare. I just wanted to make sure you were alright," he says sheepishly.

"I wish I could remember them when I have them," I yawn, my muscles stiff.

"Well you were talking…" he says slowly. I sit up straighter, narrowing my eyes.

"Of what?" I swallow, scared of what I've said. He hesitates.

"You missed me," he accuses, joking around. But I can tell it made him happy deep in his eyes. I stand up, embarrassed. As soon as I do, the plane jerks forward heavily.

"Ah!" I yell. I'm knocked onto my ass instantly, and Barney has put his face in his hand. He was _laughing_ at me. And doing a very bad job of hiding it. I glare at him but even I can't help but laugh. A few seconds of laughing later, there's knocking at the plane door. Barney launches up, approaching the door hesitantly. He waits until the knocking persists, and we know there's someone on the other side. He opens it up.

"What the fuck are you guys doing in here?" I hear Lee laugh. It was finally light outside, the wind was gusty but not even a fraction of what is was yesterday. The only rain that was left was a hazy mist. The storm surge however, was still high. But, it wasn't as high as Katrina. Which gave me hope for the levees, built to withstand stronger winds now.

"The hangar collapsed on the skis. Destroyed our ride back. Had no choice," Barney explains. Thorn suddenly appears, and sees me. The apprehension that was wrinkling around his eyes vanishes when he meets mine. He practically pushes Lee out of the way and embraces me tightly.

"I was so worried," he muttered. I grip him back.

"I'm okay," I murmur, nuzzling my face into his shoulder. I hadn't realized how much I missed these arms around me in the last two months.

"Come on, we have a rescue squad out on a dinghy down below," Lee says, helping Barney limp out. When Thorn helps me step out of the plane, I see that it's half submerged and it has drifted to the end of the runway. I gulp, glad we were finally leaving it.

Down below, the whole team was in a motorized dinghy, waiting for us. Including Tool, who grasps his best friend in a tight hug. I smile fondly at him as he looks over Barney's shoulder at me, narrowing his eyes. I forgot I ran away yesterday.

"You're a fucking lunatic," he says dryly when I board the boat. I laugh.

"You weren't innocent, don't even try to accuse me of being the only liar here," I tease.

"You still ran out into a fucking hurricane, Brenna," he says dryly. Barney frowns at me.

"Self-destructive as ever, I see," he mutters. I raise a brow at him.

"Coming from you, that's rich," I chide. Everyone laughs.

"How's the parlor?" I ask Tool. He sighs.

"It's seen better days. But the sand bags helped a lot. And pretty much everything was moved upstairs and off the floor. I think we'll be able to sweep it all out within a day or two, after the storm surge goes down," he informs me. I frown, thinking about how much work this was going to be.

"Where are we going now?"

"Well, most of us have to get home to see if we still have one."

"And some of us need to get home to their very pregnant girlfriends," Smilee says, anxious. Thorn puts an arm around me, pulling me close to his side on the boat as we drove off.

"We need to go home too, check on the apartment," he murmurs in my ear. I turn to him sharply.

"Is… is that okay?" I ask lowly. He frowns.

"Why wouldn't it be?" he asks. I don't comment and shrug, looking away. He sighs.

"You lost your father, Brenna. Anything actions you took that helped you, anything you did, was out of grief. And so you could protect yourself. We have some things to talk about… but it's less about that and more about my career."

His statement shocks me to silence, and I stare off into the distance.

I'm not sure I could ever handle losing anyone again. Not even a close call, like this one. I tuck my legs in and rest my chin between my knees. I close my eyes thoughtfully, trying not to let the paranoia and grief cage my heart once more. The duo had poked and prodded at it for months. And now I had to learn to let that pain go.


	37. Chapter 37

_Barney's POV_

One week later, the storm surge and flooding had officially returned to normal and the streets were a mess. Trees, debris, cars, furniture, and so much more lined the streets and alleys. But in comparison to Katrina, it was nothing. "Hurricane" Nora made landfall as a tropical storm, as opposed to be Cat 1 that the new organizations were reporting. It must've slowed down before it hit land. And just like Katrina, New Orleans was spared from a direct hit. We were very lucky. We were all still under flood warning. The levees were heavily damaged in the storm. We lost the industrial canal levee along the railroads again, but this time we lost only two walls as opposed to four.

Brenna was currently focused on her task of helping Tool officially start cleaning up the parlor now that it didn't have shin-deep water and the power was back. Reagan was propped up on the couch that Brenna had brought down for her after the lounge area had been cleaned and sanitized. Reagan was playing some kind of crap music and annoying the hell out of Brenna with it, a common occurrence. But it still brought a lot of emotion in my head, which was unwelcome. And I knew why. Because for a while, I thought I'd never see her again.

Knowing how much pain I'd caused her put a lot of things into perspective for me. Seeing what I meant to her was heart-warming, sure. But seeing myself through her eyes was something I hadn't expected at all. I was so much more than this heartless bastard in her eyes. And sometimes that thought was too much. It was dangerous- for her and myself.

"Reagan, I swear to god," Brenna's annoyed voice snaps me out of my inner turmoil and makes me smirk.

"Come on, do it! Please! For the pregnant lady," she begs her, and Brenna narrows her eyes.

"That's not playing fair," she grumbles.

"What does she have to do?" I ask with humor. Reagan grins.

"She used to dance all the time in high school and now _she won't ever_ and this was her favorite song," Reagan whines. I look at Brenna incredulously.

" _This_ was your favorite song?" I ask, referring to the tacky beat that Reagan was blasting through the speakers. She frowns.

" _Used_ to be," is all she says before she turns back around to continue her mopping. She's been moody all week, which was odd considering how happy everyone expected her to be. But I had a feeling I knew why. It's hard to let go of the pain you feel when it's so strong and such a part of your life for so long… it was throwing her off.

"God, you know what's frustrating? The fact that Katrina happened literally thirteen years ago and the same goddamn levee that breached along the industrial canal still broke. And Katrina was three times stronger than Nora, we only caught the tail end of Nora. You'd think the city would've put more money into building a better levee system after that, but noooo! Instead, they breach at just a Tropical Storm," Tool grumps as he tries to dry some of the drawings that were likely unsalvageable. It was sad, but at least the whole parlor wasn't submerged like last time.

"At least the rest of them didn't go. I'm surprised by that. I was expecting a chain reaction, starting with the Lower Ninth Ward again," Brenna sighs. I forgot that's where she used to live.

"They still could. Just gotta hope the emergency crews can fix them," Reagan sighs.

"Which is why you shouldn't be here, in case they do. You're due in like three weeks, if you go into labor during that you're fucked," Brenna warns. Reagan waves her off.

"Meh, my house was one of the very few spared in the Lower Ninth Ward. I've got better luck than you," she gloats. Brenna glares at her.

"I wouldn't exactly call the condition of your house 'sparred'. It was demolished in the rebuilding process, and declared unlivable," Brenna reminds her.

"Yea but yours was disintegrated. At least you pulled all the shit out into your mom's storage place upstate beforehand," Reagan sighs. I frown.

"Didn't you guys evacuate?" I ask. Brenna gives me a wild look.

"An eighteen foot wall of water from the industrial canal flood wall ripped my old house from its foundation. If I was there for that, do you think I'd still be here?" she asks sarcastically. She had such an attitude today, and I think it was all the Katrina talk. As a native New Orleanian, to this day it's still really hard to talk about.

Reagan suddenly launches up, wincing.

"Goddamn, you little monstrous brat, don't aim for the rib cage!" she yelps down at her baby bump. Brenna drops the attitude, as well as her mop, and laughs. She walks over to Reagan and puts a hand against her stomach as the baby kicks. Her whole demeanor changes immediately at the mention of the baby, and it shocks me. She becomes warm and calm, and she was smiling. Reagan catches me looking at Brenna weirdly. She motions for me to come over.

"Hey Brenna, I hate to ask, but do you have an extra pillow for my back-"

"Yea I've got plenty upstairs, I'll be right back," Brenna rushes off to go find one. I come over to Reagan.

"Curious, isn't it?" she says. My brows furrowed in confusion at her statement.

"What?"

"How she just snaps into a different person, at the mention of this little tyke? He didn't even kick my rib cage, I just said that so she'd come over and cheer up a little. She loves feeling him kick," she looks down at her baby fondly, and back up to where Brenna rushed off to. I frown.

"How much did I miss in the last two months?"

"Honestly? Not much. She was in a lot of pain… but you know that. She's been super attentive since I made the official pregnancy announcement. She jumps up to get anything I need. I can't even get Smilee to do that 100% of the time. But Brenna… she's… I don't know. She loves this little guy already," Reagan sighs warmly at her friend.

"Was she always good with kids?" I ask. Reagan looks at me with a slight tear in her eye, smiling. She nods.

"Yes. She always babysat in high school, to help out with her mom's bills. Her backup plan if the artist thing didn't work out was being a teacher. But her patience is... well, mediocre. As you know. So maybe it's for the best," Reagan laughs. I snort.

"Yea, I can't picture her dealing with a kid," I mutter, slightly amused.

"She'd be a fantastic mom," Reagan counters. I shift in my seat uncomfortably, unsure about being a grandfather.

"Good luck with that. Thorn asked for my blessing to marry her months ago, and he still hasn't asked her," I joke. Reagan smile slips.

"It hasn't been a good time… do you have any idea how hard it would be to get engaged and plan a wedding that her own father wouldn't be able to give her away in?" she asks. I forgot about that tradition. Ugh, why couldn't they just go to Vegas or something.

"You don't want them to get married, do you?" she asks. I sigh. I had many opinions on it. One being based off of what happened between Sabrina and I, but that was us and not them.

"I want Brenna to move far away from here, meet a doctor, go to law school, and live in a white-picket fence house, or some shit like that. Instead, she's a tattoo artist in Mid-city New Orleans with a murderous father and a boyfriend no less virtuous, and all of her friends are mercenaries. But, which one sounds more like Brenna?" I ask dryly. Reagan throws her head back and laughs.

"Is that true? You want her to be a lawyer?" she asks a little more seriously.

"She's… good. That's the best word to describe her. Wholeheartedly good. She needs to be in a position where defending the good from the bad doesn't mean holding a rifle to her shoulder. I was hoping she'd go to school with the money I left her… but she didn't even touch it," I frown.

"Next time I'll fly to Vegas and be sure to gamble it all away," she says dryly behind me, unhappy about being talked about. She tosses Reagan a pillow and goes back to helping Tool with moping. Reagan looks guilty.

"Sorry," she mouths at me. I shrug. Brenna was already in a bad mood, I doubt my contributions would make much of a difference. Then again, she was always mad at me.

"Sorry, kid. How much did you hear?" I ask behind her after I manage to hobble over. My knee was still fucked, but Doc looked at it. Told me I would probably need a replacement after it was done healing. And physical therapy. I was less than happy about it.

"Enough. Since when don't you approve of Thorn?" she mumbles.

"It's not that. I just think that your life could be so much better than what it is. And I'm talking in the big picture, not just with Thorn," I sigh, not wanting to discuss her relationship with one of my men to this extent. It was awkward enough.

"And if Thorn is part of that big picture?" she stops mopping and jerks her chin out in defiance, a common gesture with her.

"Well from what I've heard about how you were when I was… gone… I don't want to see you go through the same thing with Thorn, god forbid-"

"I can't go there," she chokes, turning back around sharply. I look at Tool and he shakes his head, warning me off. I ignore him.

"Brenna, I'm okay. You need to let this go," I tell her. Her head snaps up, and she turns around glaring at me. A real glare. She's mad. No, she's furious. I'm expecting a full tirade, a lecture, something. But instead she storms off, dropping her mop. Tool growls.

"You better pick up that mop and take her place, man. You pissed off my only employee," he grumps.

 _Brenna's POV_

"And he thinks that somehow I can just drop everything I've felt in the last two months so easily. I still have _nightmares,_ nightmares that I can actually remember, about the pain his death caused," I rant over the phone to Mira. I was pacing on the roof of the parlor, looking out over the sunny clear sky of post-storm Nora. Mira and Reagan braved the storm together at Smilee's apartment, which was a higher up building than Mira's. They were both perfectly fine, aside from a window being blown out in the bedroom apparently. Which was fine, they were boarded up anyway.

"I'm sorry, Brenna. The last thing you two should be doing right now is fighting," she sighs.

"He can't even see, after all this time, how much I care."

"Well, he sees it, Bren. He just doesn't want to accept it. Think about his occupation. The things he's seen and done. It's messed him up," she explains. I sigh.

"Okay fine, and I get that-"

"Brenna, you need to focus on the fact that he's alive. Stop feeling the pain of his death and live in the moment of happiness that he isn't. Same goes for you. You've been through a shit ton over the course of the last year. Actually, four years from what you tell me about your mother. You neglect to remember that _you're alive._ You're here. Still breathing. So you need to _live._ The way you did at your happiest. Without fear, paranoia, remorse, or regret," she declares over the phone, and it stuns me to silence.

"I-"

"I've gotta go Brenna. Just think about what I've said," she says, and hangs up.

 _We're alive._

Barney's words echoed in my head again. Why did that phrase continue to reoccur in my life? I walk over to the edge of the building, rethinking about everything since I met Barney a year ago. How much has changed, how much I had gone through. _We're alive._

I'm suddenly jerked back to the past, remembering where I heard that phrase first.

 _The wind, though stifling and hot, chilled me to the bone. It was an overcast day, typical, for a funeral. His grave is marked only as friend and father. But there was so much more to him than that. And he deserved better than this._

 _Tears that never end roll down my face, chapping my face in the wind. I know Thorn was still behind me, but I wasn't ready to leave yet. Once I did, that would be the final acceptance that he was gone. And I wasn't strong enough for that yet._

" _Brenna, isn't it?" a voice asks behind me. I turn, and see Drummer standing beside me. I nod, but don't say anything._

" _I wanted to offer my condolences. He was a good man, your father," he sighs. I wipe my face._

" _Thank you," is all I manage. He hesitates, then drops his shoulders and turns to me._

" _Losing people is something I'm no stranger to. From what I understand, it's nothing new to you as well," he says. I turn to him._

" _What's your point?" I demand._

" _Everyone around us leaves… you ever notice how we're still around? You fight like hell and survive all these close calls, and you're here. It's because we're still meant to be here, for whatever reason. We're alive. And that's how you'll learn to breathe again. You're alive for a reason, Brenna. For Barney's sake, don't waste it living in the past. Take the lessons of loss and death and turn them into what drives you live every day the way you want to. He'd want that for you," he says, and walks away._

 _We're alive._

I'm brought back to the present with a new sense of peace. I smile as I look out over my city, my home, the place I was raised. Where everything started versus where I am now has been… hard. But it wasn't easy for a reason. It was trying and difficult because I'm meant to fight for it, just the way I always have. Because it makes the good times so much sweeter. I stand up straighter, getting ready to return downstairs when I hear someone approach behind me.

"You're not planning on jumping, are you?"

I whirl around, knowing who's voice that was based off the last time someone said that to me.

"David!" I shout, running to him and throwing my arms around him. He laughs and picks me up, spinning me around.

"Guess not," he jokes.

"Why are you here? How is everything?" I ask. He laughs.

"I'm better. Much better. And I had to come see how you braved the storm. Clearly you did fine. Christ Brenna, did you start lifting since I left?" he jokes. I laugh.

"Yea, New Orleans was spared mostly. Unfortunately the levees aren't in the best shape. We might lose some, we aren't sure yet," I sigh. David frowns.

"Sounds like you guys should probably leave the city while you can," he advises. I shrug.

"I'm not worried about it. Are you staying?" I ask. He shrugs, smiling.

"For as long as Drummer doesn't have any work for me," he sighs. I look at him, shocked. "You didn't know I worked for Drummer now?" he asks. I shake my head.

"I'm surprised Barney didn't tell you," he forces out his name, like it hurts to say. _Shit. He still resented him. He can't be here._

"Considering he was dead for the last two months, I'd say he's excused," I say sardonically and David looks at me wildly.

"What?!"

"You've missed a lot," I mutter under my breath.


	38. Chapter 38

"So he only came back a week ago?" David asks. I had just finished explaining everything he's missed.

"About, yeah. Still having a little trouble… with coping," I finish forcefully, looking away from him. He frowns.

"The one thing I told you not to do was kill anyone… now you've got a full record," he mutters, annoyed. I laugh.

"Is that all you've heard?" I ask, astounded.

"Brenna!" I hear Barney yell up the fire escape. Seconds later, I see his head peak over the roof. He halts when he sees David. David tenses when he sees him. _Uh oh._

"Oh…. hello David," Barney tried to be pleasant, but I know he's never ready trusted David. I sigh.

"What's up, dad?" I ask. He jerks his thumb downstairs.

"Mira just arrived downstairs with someone she wants you to meet… she said his name was Zane?" he asks, questioning if I knew him. The name sounded familiar, and then my stomach drops and I look at David who was equally shocked and confused. And we launch from our seats along the roof and race downstairs.

We race downstairs and see Mira standing hand in hand with who I assume is Zane. He was the prisoner that supposedly died the day I showed up. He was the tallest person I'd ever seen, maybe taller than Gunnar. And he was built too, so he must've been busy since… well, since he's been dead. His umber skin was mainly scarless, it made me wonder how long he was actually in incarceration for.

David's face breaks into a huge smile as he races forward and grasps Zane into a large hug. Zane laughs and grasps him back. Everyone in the room is shocked to see David, including Mira.

"How are you here?" she asks, thrilled. David engulfs her into an embrace as well, still giving his crooked grin.

"Just am," he mutters.

"You must be Brenna. I've heard plenty about you," Zane reached forward to shake my hand, and for whatever reason, I throw my arms around him laughing. I remembered the pain that Mira went through when she assumed he was dead- for her sake, this was amazing. Zane chuckles and hugs me back.

"I already feel like I know you, thanks to Mira. How are you here?" I laugh in disbelief. He scoffs.

"Those doctors were shit. I just faked my death. Believe me, I wanted to be," he shutters as he remembers the drug that I was very familiar with. A shiver crawls it's was across my skin as well, and I see David tense up. Mira tells Zane something in what I assume is Portuguese, and Zane turns to me. "I hear you know the feeling," he says. I see Barney out of the corner of my eye tense up.

"Unfortunately. Survived it though. You did too, evidently. How the hell did you get here?" I ask.

"Ah. Well, would've been here sooner had I had a way to. It's been almost a year since I vanished so, it's not like I went missing yesterday. I managed to sneak aboard a tourists ship after traveling on many trucks to Cairo. It took months. That tourist ship got me to Italy. And from Italy I got to Germany. And from Germany I got to Chicago. And that's what took the longest amount of time. Figuring out where Mira was. All I knew was what escaped prisoners told me. She escaped with some Americans… and they described the plane. From there I just had to research, make money, and meet the right people. And that's how I got onto Drummers radar- he wanted to know why I was looking for the team so badly. So then Drummer contacted Mira to confirm, and I showed up a little under and hour ago," he explains, grinning. Mira smiles fondly at him and re-takes his hand. _Ah, they loved each other. I should've known._

"David," Thorn greets behind me through his teeth suddenly. I didn't even see that he had shown up, I thought he was at Smilee's apartment fixing the window. David just grins at him in a friendly way.

"Thorn," he responds. I roll my eyes.

"That doesn't make any sense. That place was crawling with guards. How did you get out?" I demand from Zane, slightly suspicious.

"Brenna!" Mira gasps, slightly amused and mostly aghast. Zane just laughs.

"Mira, calma. They took the bodies that piled up out once a week. I had to lay there until they did. And they threw us all into a back of truck, assuming to an incineration disposal. But when the coast was clear, I ran," he explains, his face growing pale. I do the math in my head and my eyes grow wide. Zane was in the room the first time I was tortured, somewhere in the pile of bodies that awaited extraction. Thorn takes my hand.

"Brenna? Are you okay?" he asks. I nod.

"Fine," I choke, making eye contact with Zane awkwardly. I can tell in his eyes that I heard my screams.

"You heard…" I whisper, mainly to myself. He puts a hand on my shoulder.

"You tolerate pain well, _menina_ ," he says softly. I swallow loudly, as memories of the pain surface in my head. A shiver crawls it's way across my skin. Barney's expression changes from one of confusion to one of regret and pain.

David frowns at me, leaving Mira's side.

"Are you okay?" he asks lowly. I clench my jaw and nod. I look at Zane.

"How much did you hear?" I ask. He sighs.

"Enough. I'm very sorry about your mother," he offers, but I close my eyes painfully. I never wanted to pain I felt to leave that room. The only people to ever hear me get tortured was Mira and David, and they barely heard it. But Zane saw it… it made me feel vulnerable. Thorn squeezes my hand, but it was too late. I felt a panic attack coming on from resurfacing memories and ghost pains of the drug. I pull my hand out of his grasp.

"Just a minute," I rasp and head toward the door for some fresh air.

"Brenna-" I hear Barney call behind me but I was already halfway out the door. I look down and see that I was wearing my tennis shoes and decent running clothes. And more than anything I wanted to get away from here. I needed to clear my head, to push out the pain by replacing it with the pain of my muscles. So I take off in a fast paced jog down the street, eager to remove any memories jarred by Zane's return.

 _Barney's POV_

I went outside to check on her but she was already gone, out of sight. _Damn, she moves like fucking smoke._

"Where did she go?" Thorn asks behind me. I shrug.

"Hell if I know. She took off," I sigh. Reagan waddles up behind us.

"I think I probably know. But you probably shouldn't come."

"Why?"

"Because she needs to think."

Hearing what she went through with Church only gets harder every time it's mentioned. But this was different. Zane heard, and likely saw, everything. Something I hope I never, ever have to witness.

 _Brenna's POV_

"You move like smoke. You run faster and farther than anyone I know. But why on earth would you come here?" Mira says behind me suddenly. I stood in the condemned property that used to be Wiley's Bar. It was ransacked and empty, the windows boarded up and dusty. I shake my head.

"I'm trying to remember," I say quietly. Mira approaches my side. I see David and Zane have arrived too.

"I'm sorry for… hurting your feelings," Zane apologizes. I snort.

"You didn't. I just got a little freaked out. I'm fine," I shake off the feelings of anxiety but remain like a statue as I stand with my arms crossed. The bar was closed, gutted, and dark.

"So you came here to remember what?" Mira asks. I sigh.

"What it felt like to be normal. But this isn't the place for that. I thought maybe if I came back here it would trigger something… but my problems started long before I got here," I sigh sadly, trying to remember my early high school days with Reagan. Choir concerts, academic decathlon, art shows, all the young naivety that I miss. But even in high school I still had dark moments. Ever since Uncle Lou died. And following that, Katrina happened. I started to lose a lot all at once. Suddenly, an idea strikes me.

"I know where to go," I smile, headed back outside.

"Where?"

"My moms storage unit, upstate. I can get out some old baby stuff to give Reagan, too. I need to clear it out anyway," I explain. David puts a hand on my shoulder.

"We can go with you, but do you think you can wait until tomorrow?" he asks.

"Why?"

"Because Zane is alive, I'm back, and we're all here. Not dead," he hints. I grin.

"Are you suggesting a night out?" I ask.

"No, I'm suggesting we get shitfaced," David scoffs. Mira laughs.

"I'll vouch for Brenna, she's way more fun when she's drunk," she winks at me. I sigh.

"Fine. We'll go tomorrow. Where do you want to go?" I ask. Mira grimaces.

"No shawarma this time please," she begs. I laugh.

"Don't worry, I've learned my lesson."

"Brenna!"

"Oh it's not that high up, relax!" I yell belligerently back down at my party group. I was climbing a building so I could see where the hell we were. We'd gotten a little too drunk at a local dive bar near the Lower Ninth Ward, and we were incredibly lost. We weren't in the Lower Ninth Ward anymore, but I still had no idea where we were.

"We could just call a cab!" David yells to me. I point in the direction of mid-city.

"Got it! Go that way!" I yell down to them and jump down from the fire escape. The motion causes my head to wobble a little, but I wasn't as drunk as last time I went out. David hands me the bottle of tequila he was towing around. I take a quick slug and chew on a mint leaf that I got from a bar somewhere.

We eventually walk all the way back to mid-city and everyone is exhausted and our feet are tired. It's like 1 AM, and I can see that Tool's parlor lights are still on. I stumble in with my group.

"We're baaaack!" I sing out to the group of people that were still here. Gunnar, Doc, Galgo, Caesar, Toll Road, Luna, and Mars. And of course Tool and Barney. A larger crowd than I was expecting. Tool smirks at us.

"I was wondering when you were coming back. You took off too quick," Barney frowns, obviously worried. I wave a hand at him.

"Psh. I texted," I mumble. Gunnar chuckles.

"Your wrecked, aren't you?" he asks. I point to David.

"He's worse!" I tattle, the mint leaf still in my mouth. David shoved me lightly. But he looked sick.

"That's because no one can fucking keep up with you," he groans. I put my fists on my hips proudly.

"Where's Thorn?" I slur.

"At home probably. Waiting for you. So that's where you should be," Barney eyes David, narrowing his eyes. David sizes him up as well. _Shit, this was going to be such a problem._

"Ay! None of that. I've had a good night, my friends are back and somehow we've managed to stay alive-"

"Even though you've tried your damn hardest to not be," Mira mutters drunkenly at me. I flip her off. Zane laughs.

"Least I didn't wear heels this time," I sigh, kicking off my boots.

"Are you sleeping here?" Tool asks. I collapse on the couch where no one is sitting.

"Dunno," I mumble into the couch cushion. Tool chuckles, but Barney looks wary.

"Brenna, I get that you wanted to celebrate, but you should really go home-"

"Shut uuuup, Dad!" I groan, annoyed. I hear him snort.

"I like you better when you're quiet and brooding," he mutters jokingly. I raise my head and glare at him.

"Stupid, no you don't," I pout. Mira comes over.

"Move it," she mutters, wanting a spot on the couch. I refuse to move, so she sits on my butt.

"Get off!" I groan, but don't make a move to push her off. A few snickers go around the room.

"If you had just moved, it wouldn't have happened this way," she gloats. I snicker and point at David.

"I want it that way!" I sing out, the same song he would try to sing to us to get us to laugh in our cells. Mira, Zane, David, and I crack up laughing as we all start to sing the Backstreet Boys.

"That's not even the best song. What was the lullaby you used to sing all the time?" David asks. I yawn and shrug.

But I start to sing it anyway. Softly, and slowly, and everyone in the room froze when I began to sing. It was a simple but haunting melody, which was the usual for the lullabies I knew. David smiles warmly as I sing, and when I finish the lullaby, the room has gone quiet.

"I had no idea you could sing," Tool says quietly. I smile.

"Honors choir, all four years of high school. Blame Reagan. She made me," I murmur as I begin to drift off into the pillow.

"Brenna…"

But whoever is talking faded away as I black out.

 _Barney's POV_

"She could just sleep in her old room, you know," Tool sighs behind me as I lift an unconscious Brenna into the passenger seat of my truck. I shake my head.

"She needs to be around Thorn. They've got some things to discuss now that David is back. He's likely less than pleased about her being drunk with him, hence why she came here and not home," I grouch.

"She wasn't drunk _alone_ with him-"

"Doesn't matter."

"She would _never_ cheat on him, Barney. She couldn't hurt him like that," Tool says flatly. I shake my head.

"It's not just that. I don't trust the people she calls her friends. The kind of person you become after being incarcerated for that long at such a young age… well, I wouldn't trust that person. Ever."

"You trust Doc."

"I've _known_ Doc. For years. Brenna doesn't truly know these people. And I wish she'd stop drinking so much," I sigh, buckling her in. I had a strict no substance abuse (drinking or drugs) rule. And I expected everyone around me to follow that.

"So is David staying with Mira and Zane then?" Tool asks. I shrug.

"Suppose so. I'll be back soon," I tell him and climb into the truck.

The ride over felt incredibly long, and too quiet. Occasionally I'd reach over to make sure Brenna was still breathing. But, she'd been drunker than this in the past. But suddenly, her head lifts heavily and she looks around slightly panicked.

"What the fu-"

"I'm taking you back home, relax."

She groans, and I slow the truck in case I have to pull over so she can puke.

"How often do you go out drinking?" I demand. She shrugs.

"Not that often. Why?" she slurs.

"Just want to make sure this wasn't a new habit since I was gone," I sigh. She crosses her arms.

"When's your knee surgery?" she asks suddenly, sounding a little less drunk.

"Next week. Metal replacement," I explain. She snickers, a sound not commonly heard from her. I raise an eyebrow. "Something funny?"

"You're gonna be a half-robot," she mumbles. I shake my head, smirking.

"You really are wrecked, kid. Do me a favor?"

She makes a low noise in response.

"Don't make this a habit… especially around your new friends," I say cautiously.

"They aren't 'new' friends and regardless, I trust them. Why can't you?" she questions. My mouth twitches in annoyance.

"Instincts. David is giving me bad vibes. You of all people I would think could understand that feeling," I give her a knowing look but she crosses her arms angrily.

"If I'm not getting a bad feeling, then it's fine. I actually _know_ David, unlike you."

"Yes but that doesn't mean he's not capable of hurting others. He works with Drummer, he was incarcerated for years, he's basically a lone wolf mercenary now."

"God forbid I have just one more of those in my life," she mutters, annoyed. I sigh.

"Brenna, please, don't fight me on this. I have your best interests at heart, I'm just getting a bad feeling from him. Just watch your back," I warn.

"You realize he's saved my life right? You _owe_ him. Give him a chance," she growls. I swallow, trying to bring down my rising temper. She always pisses me off the easiest.

"I don't _owe_ him anything."

She shoves her chin out, annoyed, then suddenly looks sad.

"What?"

"I don't want to fight," she says softly, closing her eyes as if in pain. _What?_

 _Oh. Last time we fought, I left and died._

I take her hand and squeeze it softly, saying nothing the rest of the trip. When I park outside Thorn's apartment complex, she limply climbs out of the car. I'm by her side in a flash to help her walk, but she seems to be okay. We get to Thorn's door, and I know he's probably awake waiting for her. He opens the door after the first knock. He's surprised to see me.

"Barney?"

"She needed a ride," I explain simply. Thorn eyes her warily, but she walks in on her own and slips off her boots.

"I'm gonna take a shower," she mumbles and walks off.

"Is she good?" he asks. I nod.

"Yeah. She's fine. Just needs to sleep it off," I comment. Thorn nods, gazing towards where his girlfriend walked off in worry. I frown.

"How come you haven't proposed yet?" I ask. He looks at me, bewildered.

"Hasn't exactly been a good time," he chokes, shocked. I smirk.

"She doesn't need the hearts and flowers, Thorn," I advise. He shakes his head, astounded.

"You don't get it, do you?" I stay silent and wait for him to tell me. "It's not about that. She was devastated. You weren't here to watch her break. She put herself back together as best she could, but when she thought you were gone she basically had to reprogram herself. She realized that every day was harder than the last, and it wasn't getting better. So she let go. She buried it all, lived with the pain in her heart every day. And now suddenly you're back. She has to reprogram again. So no, I didn't propose. Not because I need to plan some extravagant thing for it. But because she needed time to deal with losing you."

"I wasn't worth it," I tell him flatly. His jaw clenches in disagreement.

"Doesn't matter. To her, you're worth every minute. You're her father, and more than that? Her best friend. Try to understand that," he grumbles, annoyed. But I think he's also partially talking about himself. I slap his shoulder fondly.

"You're a good kid, Ethan. You'll make an even better son-in-law. Just don't fuck it up. And don't wait too long," I implore, and he looks up once more, shocked. He has nothing to say so I say goodnight and walk out, headed back to my truck. I pull out my phone, ready to call Tool with a plan in my head.

"Tool, I need you to run a background check for me."

"Drummer would do a better job-"

"Drummer probably won't do one for one of his own pawns," I interrupt him. He's silent.

"David?"

"Yes."

 _Thorn's POV_

"Brenna?" I ask, knocking on the bathroom door. I open it softly and she's brushing her wet hair, wrapped in a towel. I gulp when I see her, her tan skin looked smooth and dewy.

"Yes?" she asks. I come up behind her and kiss her neck softly. She looks at me, stunned.

"You're not mad?"

"I trust you. I always have. And I always will," I tell her. I had concerns, admittedly, but Barney helped with those. She smiles warmly at me in the mirror, spinning around in my embrace. She caresses my face softly and very gently presses her lips to mine. I groan, kissing her back just as slow.

"I've always loved that the most about you," she whispers against my lips. I raise a brow in question. "You always trust me. You trust me to make my own decisions, to make the right one, and you let me fail on my own. I wish Barney could see it like that," she sighs. I smile and rub her shoulder as she ducks her head under my chin.

"He's your dad. He may not have been around for your life, but the dad instinct is still there. He's always going to want better for you," I explain. She nods, wavering slightly in my arms. I grin.

"Alright, Ms. Boozy. Let's get you to bed," I lead her out of the bathroom and she grabs my t-shirt from the floor and pulls it on. I don't miss the deep inhale she takes of the collar as she does, nor do I miss the sultry smile that appears because of it. I push her onto the bed playfully and run my nose up hers. She giggles.

"Unless you want me to puke on you-"

"Oh get over yourself, sex is the last thing I'm after right now," I tease her, and she laughs.

"Well then what's the first thing your after?" she grins sleepily. _Oh baby, you have no idea._

"I'll tell you in the morning. Go to sleep," I kiss her forehead and pull her to my chest. She yawns and snuggles down against me.

"I love you. Always," she mumbles before passing out. Her words bring a warm feeling to my heart, reassuring that no matter what, it'll always be her and I. My concerns about David vanish in an instant.

But that doesn't change the fact that I don't trust him. No one does, except Brenna. She's usually quick to get in touch with her instincts. The same way Barney's always been. But her judgement is clouded. There was definitely something sketchy about David's return.

 _Brenna's POV_

I could tell it was late afternoon when I woke up. The sun, though it was starting to get cold out, baked through the window and onto my bare skin. I still wore Thorn's t-shirt but I still had neglected to put on pants. I giggle at the memory and lift my head, expecting to see him. But he was gone. I look around, and notice the room has been picked up and cleaned a little too. I pull my hair out of my face.

"Thorn?" I call out, but get no response. I rise from bed, pulling my massive amount of hair into a ponytail. I pull on some gym shorts and leave Thorn's shirt on. I walk out of the bedroom and look around. He's nowhere in sight. I pick up my phone and see that I have three missed calls from Barney. I call him back, but he doesn't answer. I try calling Thorn, the same thing. I start to panic.

I rush back to the bedroom and pull on proper clothing. I slide on a pair of light blue jeans and a baby blue sweater. I grab my boots and slide them on quickly. I note that Thorn's motorcycle key was gone. I grab my Jeep key and haul ass out the door. I try calling Barney again and get his answering machine. I growl.

"There better be a good damn reason I'm freaking out right now," I tell the answering machine, and hang up. I climb into my Jeep, which has now been lifted and modified for off road use thanks to Tool teaching me how to install the new additions.

I pull up in front of the parlor and launch out of the car, storming into the garage. But for once, it was empty and dark. I knock on Tool's bedroom door, no response. I open the door and he's nowhere in sight. I run upstairs to Barney's flat and do the same, but he isn't in either.

"Son of a bitch," I hiss to myself. I call Reagan to see if she knows anything, and she doesn't answer. Now I _know_ something was wrong.

The plane was in shambles, there was no way they left for a job. Unless it was stateside, they could have drove. But I doubt it, they don't usually take jobs stateside. And regardless, Barney should still be here. He can barely walk. I run a hand through my ponytail, trying to think of what is going on. I suppose they could have gone to Rusty's, but it was only four. But it was the only lead I had. I whirled around and ran downstairs, and back out into the Jeep. I drove to Rusty's, and it only took two seconds total to walk in and see that they weren't here either. I didn't know what else to do. I drove home, completely confused and bewildered. Where are they?

Upon entering the apartment once more, a tingling sensation crawls it's way up my spine. I reach for the gun hidden in the coat rack that Thorn keeps. I check the ammunition and load it, creeping into the apartment. I look around and see nothing out of the ordinary, but I still had a nagging feeling someone was watching me. I knew better than to ignore the feeling, so I quickly retreat and head back down the elevator. I stow the gun into the waistband of my jeans. I'll be damned if I get another set of stitches today, if someone was in the apartment. When I walk outside there's two men in suits standing by my Jeep. I halt in my tracks and they approach me. I turn around briskly but there's another man with a suit that steps in front of me. I sigh and turn around.

"Who are you and what do you want?" I demand. Their faces remain stoic as they approach me. I keep my stance, and quickly rip the gun out of my jeans. They stop moving.

"I'll say it again: who are you, and what do you want?" I demand and point the gun at them. Tires squeal around the corner closest to us, and Barney's truck appears. It stops in the middle of the street and Barney launches out of the truck, gun in hand, running over to me.

"Brenna!" he yells, and the three men take off down the street. _What the hell?_ I take off after them, but Barney grabs my arm and hauls me back. He wraps his arm around me protectively and looks around, alarmed.

"We need to go. Now," he leads me over to the truck, guiding me in.

"What's going on? Where's Thorn? Who were those guys?"

"Bad news. I always warned you that my past may catch up to me one day. Today is that day. We gotta go," he throws the truck in reverse and guns it down the street.

"Where is Thorn?" I command him to answer me. He shakes his head.

"I don't know who's listening to us. They could be anywhere. I can't tell you what's going on until we get there," he explains. I sit back in my seat and buckle up, putting the gun aside. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Barney eye the gun with humor.

"Thatta girl," he mumbles, smirking. I grin.

He drives downtown, and we get to the parlor. I look at him questionably.

"We need to pack up and go. This is the only place where we can all meet," he explains and I get out of the truck. I was starting to get suspicious. Where were they when I was here an hour ago?

I walk into the parlor and it's still dark, but now there's a projector in the middle of the room. I feel Barney leave my side, and I look around. He's vanished and I begin to panic. But that's when the the projector starts to play a video. My face pops up on screen.

" _Get up, we're going to be late!" Thorn laughs in the video, shaking my shoulder. I groan and turn toward the pillow. It was our time in Portofino._

" _Good," I muttered and Thorn laughed._

" _I can't wait to see how you handle this," he cackled. I rose from the bed, glaring at him._

" _Laugh now, but if I puke, it's going all over you," I warned. He kisses my forehead._

 _The video fast forwards to us jumping from the plane. It continues to show happy and blissful moments from our trip. A gentle song that he and I danced to in a small restaurant played in the background of the video._

As the video started to come to a close, I didn't realize happy tears trailed down my face. Thorn appears in front of me.

"What is this? Where have you been?" I ask, but I think I know the answer. He grins, taking a knee. My breath catches in my throat as he takes my hand, producing a ring. It was a small, simple solitaire diamond with emeralds surrounding the diamond. It was enchanting.

"Brenna. Since the day I've met you, you've completely turned my world upside down. From the second you walked through those doors, I knew you were brought here for a reason. You make everyone around you laugh, you make them happy, and you make it easy to love you. And I want nothing more than to to do just that for the rest of my life. Not that you need me to, but I promise I'll always protect you, provide for you, and take care of you. Until my dying breath. But I can't stand another second of this life, waking up next to you, and not calling you my wife. So please, do that for me. Marry me," he asks, giving me his boyish crooked grin that always makes my heart stutter. I smile back, my heart pumping blood double time into my veins out of nervousness. I wipe a tear from my face.

"Yes," I whisper hoarsely, and I barely have time to finish saying that word before he launches up and grasps me in a large hug. He releases me briefly to slide the ring on, and goes back to holding me tightly. He grasps my face and kisses me, smiling through his kiss. I hadn't realized there was applause until I looked around and saw that the lights were on and everyone was here. I made eye contact with Barney and he's smiling, but I glare at him.

"How much collaboration did this take?" I demand through my watery eyes.

"Not much. Thorn needed us to stall. So we did. By the way, when you're looking for someone, check _all the rooms_. Thorn was in your old room the whole time," Barney gloats. I throw a pencil at him which he deflects off the back of his arm with a laugh. Reagan comes up to me and embraces me tightly.

"Amazing what changes in just a year," she murmurs into my ear. I grin down at her. "Congratulations," she says, tearing up. Everyone then proceeds to give us our congrats, and the festivities begin. I was thankful that I slept off my hangover already. As soon as everyone was busy with their own party chatter, and Thorn left my side, I saw Barney in the corner looking kinda down. I nudge Reagan and point to him. She laughs and makes a sad face.

"Aw. That's kinda sweet. Go talk to him," she pushes me toward him and I laugh. I take a seat next to him and give him a knowing look.

"What's up?" I ask.

"You've been a Ross for less than a year, and you're already leaving me to be Brenna Thorn," he teases, but I can tell he actually was a little sad. I elbow him.

"I'm hyphenating," I smirk, and he perks up a little bit. I laugh, and he slaps my shoulder.

"I'm proud of you, kid."

"What, for getting hitched?" I ask, raising a brow. He chuckles.

"No. Just… in general," he says, smiling to himself. I shove him.

"Stop being sappy," I mumble, trying not to cry. He shoves me back, laughing.

"Go be with your fiancé," he points to Thorn, who's arm wrestling Mars. I shake my head, smiling.

"He's busy. Seriously, what's up?" I ask. He points to my new engagement ring.

"It was your mother's," he says softly. I take a sharp breath.

"You mean… you…"

"I planned on it, yes. Never did obviously. I've kept it all these years, I don't know why. Now I do," he explains. A hand covers my mouth to keep from crying. He frowns. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you…"

"You didn't. This is just… perfect," I laugh through my tears.

"It was just a regular diamond. Your fiancé added the emeralds, said it matched your eyes. Matches Sabrina's as well," he says gently. I laugh into my hand, my eyes swollen. Thorn sees me crying from across the room and is by my side in a flash.

"Not fighting already, are we?" he asks. I scoff.

"I'd prefer that," I mutter. Barney snorts in agreement. I hear a beer bottle crash to the ground on the other side of the room where Smilee is, and he runs over to Reagan. All attention is on them immediately. She looks at me, panicked. And by the look in her eyes, I can tell what's happening. I grab my jacket, throwing it on, and run over to her.

"Reagan?" I hear Tool call over my shoulder. Reagan looks at me, terrified.

"My water broke," she says so quietly only I can hear. I nod and take her hand and Smilee takes her waist.

"Everyone move, we gotta get to the hospital!" I yell, ushering Reagan through. Smilee helps Reagan into the back of his car, and I sit back there with her. Barney and Thorn follow us out.

"We'll meet you guys there. Go Smilee!" I bark at him, and he presses the accelerator down.

"Do you have your bags packed?" I ask her, to distract. She nods.

"They've been in the trunk for weeks," she breathes. I take her hand and she squeezes it tightly.

"Do you have breathing exercises?" I ask. She nods, suddenly remembering, and begins to breathe in and out rapidly. I hear Barney's truck behind us as we race to the hospital. Smilee spins into the parking lot, runs inside, and comes back out with a doctor and a wheelchair. I help her into it, ignoring that Barney and Thorn have appeared by my side. I run alongside Reagan and Smilee until we get to the maternity ward, and I'm stopped at the doors. Barney takes my shoulder.

"Wait-" I yell, wanting to go with them. I hear Reagan shout.

"Brenna!" she cries out. They bring her back out to us. "She has to come with us!"

"She can only come if she's family, ma'am," a tired nurse says.

"She's the godmother," Smilee says, shocking me. I look at the two of them, and they're smiling at me.

"Surprise," Reagan rasps weakly.

"Okay, fine, she can come. We have to go, now!" the nurse yells. I look back at Barney and Thorn, who look both freaked out and proud.

"I'll be back when it's over," I run off to join Reagan and Smilee.

"Just one more push, Reagan. Come on," I squeeze her hand as she screams an expletive. I can't help but laugh. "I don't think your baby is going to want to hear that word the first thing into the world."

"I don't care!" she screams, pushing again. She's been in labor for six hours, and she was exhausted but still fighting hard. A piercing cry fills the room as the final push delivers the baby into the doctor's arms. They take him away to wipe him off and check his weight.

"Where is he?" she croaks. They hand him to Smilee, who looks down at him in paternal wonder. That's when I finally get to see him. His baby blue eyes shined bright, just like Reagan's. And he had just one curly lock of brown hair, like John's. Tears fill my vision. Smilee hands him to her smiling, and she weeps as she looks at her child.

"What's his name?" a nurse asks fondly. Reagan looks up at Smilee, grinning.

"Aiden. Aiden Lucas Smilee," she announces. I smile at the trio, so happy for them. Smilee embraces Reagan and Aiden, and I start to step out to give them some privacy.

"Wait! Don't you want to hold him?" Reagan asks, gesturing to the surprisingly well-behaved Aiden. I grin.

"I just didn't want to steal him from you yet," I comment, holding my arms out. The nurse shows me how to hold him. And when I look down at the tired baby in my arms, I'm instantly in love with him. I start to sing to him softly and he slowly drifts to sleep.

 _Barney's POV_

Smilee steps out wearing scrubs, finally, smiling ear to ear.

"They've just moved her and the baby to our room, if you'd like to come see him," he grins proudly. Thorn and I rise and follow him up a few flights of stairs and to the new room. He stops in front of the room.

"We've been in here for a while setting up, but I think Brenna fell asleep. It's kind of… cute. You'll see," he explains in a hushed tone. He leads us into the room, where Reagan is already reading a parenting book. She sees us and puts a finger to her lips, telling us to be quiet. She gestures to the chair in the corner. Brenna is curled up, passed out, with a firm grip on a small infant.

"They've been like that for about an hour now. Brenna has had him longer than I have. I think I've recruited my official babysitter," Reagan jokes, snickering. Smilee walks over and gently takes the baby from her arms. She jerks awake, completely alert and borderline pissed. Like a baby-bodyguard. Smilee laughs.

"Sorry, Brenna. But I think mama wants a turn," he jokes. Brenna's eyes go from wide and alarmed to tired and humored.

"This is Aiden," Reagan introduces us to him. He begins to cry, as he wakes as soon as he leaves Brenna's arms. Reagan frowns.

"So it begins," she complains, and I can't help but chuckle. Last time I was in the maternity ward, specifically at this hospital, was almost twenty two years ago. I look at Brenna's face, who's looking at small Aiden in adoration. She starts to sing a lullaby by Reagan's bedside, the baby stops squirming and listens intently to the words. Her singing silences everyone in the room, and eventually, the baby is fast asleep in his mother's arms once more. Reagan smiles at her best friend, thanking her.

"We'll let you guys be alone," Brenna whispers, slowly making her way out the door. Her feet barely lift off the ground when she walks, and she rubs her face sleepily. I put a hand on her shoulder.

"They're set up here. You should go home, try to get some sleep," I advise. She shakes her head.

"I'm fine," she mumbles. I frown, but don't say anything else.

"Was it that scary when you were with mom?" she suddenly asks, referring to Reagan giving birth. But I laugh, hard actually, and look at her.

"Fuck yes. You both scared the shit out me," I admit, and she laughs. Thorn excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and Brenna yawns.

"I'm gonna go find some coffee, you want some?" she asks. I nod.

"I'll go with you," I offer, and we both walk off to find some.

"You know, you're a good actor. I really thought something was wrong today," she laughs, annoyed as well. I chuckle.

"Comes with the job, I suppose. I can't believe you had a gun on you," I nudge her and she laughs.

"I didn't, I grabbed it when I was in the apartment. Who was waiting for me there?" she asks, smirking. But a ripple of apprehension crawls it's way across my skin. _Someone was in her apartment?_ Between this and uncovering some rather confusing information about David in his background check, things were starting to get a little weird.

"What do you mean?" I stop dead in my tracks, and she turns and looks at me questionably.

"Yea, someone was in the apartment. When I got there. Thorn keeps a gun hidden in the coat rack. I figured it was your way to get me back outside…" she trails off when she sees the look of horror on my face.

"Brenna, we didn't send anyone in the apartment to scare you out," I tell her, and she swallow loudly.

"Uh… well, I didn't actually see someone. More like a got a weird feeling that someone was watching me… but it could've been the worry talking. After all, you guys had me really worked up. It was probably nothing," she shrugs it off, but I can see the worry deeply rooted in her eyes. I put a hand on her shoulder and force her to look at me.

"Brenna, how serious are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. I'm fully prepared to trust your instincts, especially after what happened the last time I didn't. But I need to know how serious you are. And I need you to be honest and tell me the truth and not what you think I want to hear," I warn her. She clenches her jaw, a small spark of fear in her eyes that only I could be able to see, that sends my blood boiling. I hated when she looked scared, it made me feel useless.

"There was someone in the apartment," she whispers with a chilling finality. My fists flex, and I whip out my phone and call Tool.

"Bring the guys in. I want them to look at any surveillance we have on Thorn's street."

"There's an SUV, parked down the street. Familiar to the two of you?" Tool asks Thorn and Brenna. They shake their heads.

"Anyone could be in an SUV. That doesn't narrow down shit," Caesar says, grumpy at being up this early. It was now 6 AM, the guys had gone to sleep of course a while ago while Reagan gave birth. They were planning on coming by the hospital later today. But I felt bad for Brenna. She'd been awake forever, and probably still felt bad from her night out.

"We've made plenty enough enemies in this life. That could be anyone," Thorn growls, annoyed. Brenna takes his hand, squeezing it gently. She stares intently at the elevator footage on repeat, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

"Elevator camera?" she asks. Tool shakes his head.

"Nothing."

"Fire escapes?"

"Nothing. All of them. Brenna… this could be nothing-"

"Wait!" she exclaims. Everyone goes silent and she steps forward, looking closer at the footage. She shakes her head, narrowing her eyes, and rewinds the footage. She fast forwards and rewinds, pausing it every once in a while to peer at the screen earnestly. Her eyes light up as she pauses it once more, and she whirls around, grinning.

"What?" I demand.

"Look at the crack of the elevator doors," she points to the screen. I look at it, and back to her several times.

"I don't see anything," I comment dryly. She rolls her eyes and hits the play button, and then I see it. The doors slide open a fraction of an inch, and then the footage skips and the doors go back to being closed. Like the doors never opened to begin with… like someone corrupted the security footage. I smile at her.

"Nice eye, kid," I comment, and she beams proudly.

"Alright, now we've got something. Someone must have been in the apartment."

"It could be that the camera is faulty," Lee says. No one was committing that this was possible, and I didn't blame them. Nor did Brenna, we had nothing to go off of other than instinct alone. But I'll be damned if I ignore hers ever again.

"I understand that you're on the fence about this… but there was _someone-"_

Brenna is interrupted by her cell phone ringing. She frowns and answers the call.

"Hello?"

She abruptly turns and walks away for privacy and look at her back questionably but turn back toward the screen and begin to discuss with the guys the reasoning for the footage being messed with. Brenna rejoins our group after a moment.

"Who was that?" Thorn asks.

"David, somehow. Must've gotten my number through Mira. Wanted to know what I was doing and I told him what happened," she says. I turn to her sharply.

"You did _what?"_ I ask incredulously. She tenses.

"What?"

"You shouldn't have told him that. This is a private matter, and not only that, but he could very well be a suspect as well-"

"Oh stop with that shit already, would you? David isn't a sociopath, he's not trying to kill me, he's not trying to kill anyone. He wants to help," she rolls her eyes heavenward. Thorn growls as well.

"Brenna, I don't think you realize how convenient his return is. He comes back the day Zane shows up… rather convenient, I'd say. And on top of that, he supposedly works for Drummer but didn't know Zane was back in the picture? He didn't even seem that shocked to see him," Thorn throws a hand in the air, exasperated.

"If David wasn't working for Drummer anymore, we'd know. Easily. He probably didn't know about Zane because Drummer didn't tell him. Maybe because David was halfway around the world somewhere at that point," Brenna defends. But she didn't know the full story on the background check I had Tool do for David.

"Brenna… he's been in New Orleans for weeks. We don't know why. Nor do we know why he's acting like he's just showed up and needs to be staying with Mira. He's had his own place for a while, and Drummer knew nothing about it," I explain gently. She whirls around to me, enraged.

"You did a background check on him?" she exclaims, furious. I couldn't help but sigh sadly, knowing this was about to be yet another fight.

"Yes, only because it was all too convenient. For him to show up, and then Zane-"

"If anything, Zane is the guilty one there," she laughs humorlessly, completely shocked that we ran a background check on him. I shake my head.

"We did one on him too, just to be sure. His story matches what he says-"

"You did one on him too? What about Mira? Did you do that to her to?" she demands angrily. When I don't say anything, she throws her hands up in the air. "Jesus, do you ever trust anyone? Ever?"

"Look at my life and tell me why I should ever do that," I say dryly.

"Do you trust me?" she demands. Her question catches me off guard and I hesitate.

"Brenna-"

"Do you trust me?" she yells, closing her eyes. I sigh.

"Yes."

"Then listen to me. Just for once. David is not a bad guy. I will ask him why he's been lying about where he is- for your sake. But he's not connected with this. He's probably been lying because he blames you for Mia's death and wasn't quite ready to be around all this. And I didn't want to mention that because you'd only use it as ammo against him-"

"Because that's pretty damn good motivation to try and do something, Brenna!" I shout at her, bewildered that she hadn't mentioned this. She growls, annoyed.

"It's not that big a deal. You didn't kill her, he knows that, he just struggled with coming to terms with her death for a while-"

"And have you not noticed the looks of hate he gives me? That he gives all of us? Jesus Brenna, I get that he's your friend, but Christ, all the signs are there. He's not stable and he's fucking pissed off. For argument's sake, let's say he's not involved in this somehow. That someone else was in your apartment yesterday. He's still _dangerous._ He has a motive, he's lied about where he's been, and even Drummer said his actions have been dodgy lately. He's got David on double watch. Please stop being naive about this, because I know you're better than that," I beg her, and she only becomes more offended.

"Naive? I'm being naive? Anytime someone you don't know has come into my life you've ran a background check on them. Maybe you're the paranoid one this time!"

"And last time I said you were the paranoid one, you ended up dead in a parking lot!"

"What does that have to do with any of this?!"

"Because you need to stop acting so goddamn selfish just because you care about these people, and realize that maybe they're the source of a problem-"

"God, yes, that is _exactly_ my problem. You nailed it. I'm being _so_ fucking selfish. God forbid I act like a goddamn human and rationalize something before I go and say, I don't know, give them a background check!"

"I didn't do that for just you! I did it because maybe this time one of _us_ ends up dead in the middle of a parking lot, all because of your little sociopathic friend and the fact that you couldn't see through it!"

"Barney-"

"Shut up, Christmas!" I snap at him before he can finish interrupting. Brenna folds her arms in front of her, and I expect her to run out of the room like she always does when piss her off too much. But she holds ground, refusing to back down from this.

"He's _not_ a sociopath," she hisses through her teeth, trying to reign in her temper. I laugh bitterly.

"Right, well, when he shoots your fiancé dead or something, you're the one that has to live with that." Thorn steps up to intervene but she holds a hand up, stopping him.

"Yes because guilt tripping is the mature thing to do here. I get that your favorite pastime is being the one to say I told you so, but if that's the route you're choosing, kindly go fuck yourself," she snaps, clenching her jaw. Her audacity and anger shock me momentarily, and I take a second to recover.

"What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me. If you're going to act like this, and be this way, you clearly don't trust me at all and it's not worth the time," she narrows her eyes. I feel my temper snap, as if it already wasn't, and I lash out.

"Respect is a lesson worth learning. One you may consider. In the meantime, get the hell out," I hiss under my breath.

"Barney wait, don't-"

Tool tries to intervene as well, but Brenna turns on her heel and starts to head out.

"Stop this! You're both acting like fucking idiots! What happened the last time you guys fought and she stormed out? And the time before that? And the time before that? Nothing good ever comes out of these petulant fights you two have!" Tool shouts, pissed off at the two of us. But he was right. Nothing good ever came out of these fights. But I was still more than angry. She was being disrespectful, naive, and untrustworthy all because of some kid she shared a cell with for two months.

"I want you to stay here until we figure this out," I say through my teeth. Tool sits back down, a little more satisfied. But Brenna still had her back turned to me, one hand in a vice-like grip around the door handle and the other clenched into a fist down at her side. She doesn't move for several moments, and Thorn approaches her side and whispers something into her ear. She takes a moment, but releases the door handle. _I've got to ask him how he does that so well._

She turns back, but doesn't look at me.

"Fine," is all she manages. I can tell she's not got her temper under control yet, and neither have I. So her short response is more than enough, and definitely more than I was expecting. I nod and turn back toward the monitors. It only takes several seconds for me to hear the door to her old room upstairs slam loudly, making a few people in the room jump.

"Brat," I mutter under my breath. Thorn steps up.

"That's my fiancé you're talking about there. And brat or not, that was a little excessive. You both acted incredibly immature-"

"Excuse you? Did I say you could have anything to say about this? Let's focus on the job," I snap, wanting to avoid the conversation. He sighs, shaking his head, but Luna tows him away and gives him a sympathetic look.

"Alright, let's get back to work!"

 _Brenna's POV_

 **Meet me on the roof as soon as possible.**

 **Why? What happened?**

 **Just please be here soon. This has to be quick.**

 **On my way.**

"Brenna? Are you okay? Are you crying?" I hear David's voice behind me. The cool autumn wind whipped around us, as I turn and he sees my tears of rage and confusion. He takes a step forward and I take a step back.

"I need you to answer something and I need you to be honest with me," I rasp.

"Of course, I'd always be honest with you." I shake my head, uncrossing my arms.

"No. No, I need you to swear to me. Swear on my life. Swear on Mia's soul that you won't lie," I beg. He gulps, looking a little scared now.

"Brenna… whatever it is, I swear. On your life and Mia's. What's wrong?"

"Why have you been in New Orleans for weeks, and not said anything?"

He hesitates, confused by how I know that. Then he gets angry.

"Did your little gang down there run a background check on me?" he spat. I shake my head.

"I didn't know they did it, I swear." He laughs bitterly.

"No, but you still let them get into your head," he snaps. I look at him, taking a sharp intake a breath.

"You of all people in this world should know how much it actually takes to get into my head," I say quietly. David's eyes go from betrayal to guilty realization.

"You're right… I'm sorry."

"David… I really, _really_ need to know. Now."

"Are they threatening me?"

"No. I don't know. They're suspicious and if they think even for a second that you were in that apartment yesterday, they'll come after you. And I don't know what they'd do. I used to think Barney was rational but after this whole background check thing…"

"Why? Was I not the only one he did a background check on?" I don't answer his question, instead I close my eyes painfully.

"David, please. All it takes is one more suspicious thing, and then I can't vouch for you anymore. I need to know everything you know, and I need to know it now. It's the only way I can pull your name from the list of suspects they have. And right now, all they have is you. So you've got a pretty bright light shined on you," I beg. He hesitates, and sighs sadly.

"It's true. I've been here for weeks. But it's not what you think-"

I turn, my heart palpitating in my chest. _Shit. Shit shit shit. If Barney hears any of this, it's over._

"Brenna, please, listen to me. I returned from a job Drummer sent me on a few weeks ago. It went south, and I've had a really fucked up couple of months. I needed time to get my head right before I saw you. And when I ran out of money, I had to sell the apartment and force myself to come back. That and… you know how I feel about your dad and his team… with what happened to Mia," he explains. I nod.

"I know. And that's exactly what I thought. I figured you'd kept your distance because you were unsure."

"If you were sure about that, why did you have me tell you?"

"Because I needed to hear you say it. And because Barney won't stop until he had something incriminating over you. And right now he knows about how you feel with what happened to Mia. So you've got the motive, and the time frame where you were missing. If he doesn't find anything on this whole break-in situation, that won't be enough for him. He's still going to try to bring you down. He doesn't, and won't, trust you. And there's nothing stopping that now," I warn him. David stops moving temporarily, catching onto what I'm saying.

"So what do we do?"

I sigh. _I'm so sorry, Thorn._

"It means I have to keep one foot in each world."

 _This chapter was kind of boring, but it's all set up... for something big. Just when you thought it was safe... (reviews are lovely)_


	39. Chapter 39

_Brenna's POV_

"I don't want to force you spy on your own family just so you can keep me safe-"

"It's the only way. He won't stop. And I trust you."

"And you don't trust him?"

I hesitate. Did I? I thought I did. But right now, he's just so eager to point fingers at anyone. But no matter what, he was still my father. And at the end of the day, if I was ever in trouble, it's him who I would go to.

"I do. I trust him to protect me, under all costs. I trust him to be there when I need him. But I can also trust him to be a mercenary first, and a father-figure second," I sigh and David's eyes go wide.

"You don't think he'd kill me, do you?" he asks incredulously. I scoff.

"No. He couldn't do that to me. But that doesn't mean he wouldn't try. He's more than capable of hurting you."

We're silent for a long time.

"You should probably go. I don't know how long it will be until someone comes upstairs looking for me. They can't know about this-"

"Believe me, I won't say anything-"

"Which means you can't tell Mira. Or Zane."

"I understand. And… thank you, Brenna. For being so level-headed about this. I know what this looked like," he thanks me gracefully. I nod, giving him a two finger salute. He suddenly grins.

"Well, that certainly isn't the same ring I gave you. Do I hear wedding bells in the future?" he asks. I laugh, despite the situation.

"He proposed yesterday, and when Reagan gave birth, I didn't have a chance to tell anyone."

"How's she doing?"

"She's great. Her and little baby Aiden," I say his name fondly, my own godchild. That little seven pound baby turned my whole world when I saw him. He was perfect in every way.

"Well, aunt Brenna would make a good mom someday," he says, a little wistful. I scoff, but secretly, I did want that.

"Do you want you ring back?" I ask. He shrugs.

"Sometime, yeah. Not right now. I need to get going," he smiles at me. It's awkward for a moment, as we remember the last time we said goodbye on this roof. He suddenly grins.

"Not that you're a bad kisser, but you don't need to worry about that ever again," he teases. I laugh and shove him playfully. "I'm serious, what happened back then… well… we had chemistry but…"

"You don't need to say anything. I feel the same way. I have for a while now," I say, relieved to hear this from him. He nods, also looking relieved.

"Well! Now that we got the whole awkward 'I kissed you' conversation out of the way, I'm actually gonna go now. Keep me posted," he says and disappears down the latter. I laugh and sigh, growing sad in his absence. When did my life turn into such a mess?

I head back down the fire escape and climb back through my old window. Thankfully, no one was waiting on me and the door was still locked. But I had no intention of going back downstairs. I did, however, need to get a hold of Drummer. But Barney was the only one with his number, besides a few burner phone numbers that Mira had that were definitely out of service now. Thankfully, my dad was old and still kept a phone record. In his flat.

I knew what I had to do, but it was going to be impossible to not get caught. But I had to at least try. I very quietly open my door, and peak around at the dark hallway. I hear Barney's voice downstairs and the others, so I know he's not in his flat right now. I stay silent as the wind as I creep out of my room and down the hall. I tiptoe up the stairs, and one creaks quietly under my weight. But I don't hear Barney's muffled voice stop talking. My blood pounded through my body, making every artery and every vein throb. My heart thudded into my throat, and it felt like it was choking me. I reach his door, and I can no longer hear the voice. But that's because I'm too far away at this point. Now it was a matter of speed and diligence. I open his door and move like smoke as I make my way over to his nightstand. I pull out the small pocket phone book, flip to the letter D, and find Drummers actual number. I take a quick picture with my phone, close the book, and set it exactly how it was inside the nightstand. I spin around, and breathe a sigh of relief that he wasn't standing behind me. I leave his room, closing the door quietly, and as I make my way down the stairs and turn down the hallway, I run straight into him and it almost knocks me backwards.

"Brenna?" he asks, confused.

"Sorry," I mutter and try to move past him. _Shit, shit, shit._

"Wait. What were you doing up there?" he asks, his voice low. _Fuck._

"Nothing," I mumble and try to walk past him again. He steps in front of me.

"Brenna. What were you doing," he hisses. _Think, you idiot! Think!_

"I was coming to apologize. I didn't know you were still downstairs," I sigh, hoping this saves my ass. His face washes away any anger he had from our fight, and it changes to shock. _Don't give him a chance to speak._

"What I said down there… was out of line. It was rude and uncalled for, and I'm sorry. That being said, I stand by everything else I said. But I let my temper get the best of me," I apologize, praying he can't see how much I'm lying. He blinks for a second, still shocked, and pulls me into an intense hug.

"I'm sorry too. My temper slipped as well and I said things I didn't mean. I do trust you. I promise," he apologizes and my heart squeezes. _Shit. Why, oh why, did I have to lie to him?_

"That being said, I can't take back what I said about David. But how about we just focus on finding out who was in the apartment first?" he asks. I nod, still being gripped to his shoulder. He hesitates to let me go.

"I… love you, Bren. No matter what I say or do. I'm an asshole at best, and it's amazing you haven't put a bullet in me yet-"

"Get any mushier and I might," I grunt. He laughs and slaps my shoulder.

"That's my girl," he says, chuckling. _God, I am such a shitty daughter._

"Do you want to head back downstairs, so we can figure this out?"

"No," I say too quickly, and he looks at me confused. I shake my head. "Part of the reason I think I snapped is because I haven't slept in forever, and since Reagan went into labor-"

"Ah, of course. That explains a lot. You get some rest, kid," he walks me to my old bedroom door and I open it up. "I'll let you know if we find anything when you wake up."

I close the door, and sigh. I was gonna be in so much trouble. I'll be lucky if I'm even engaged after all this. _Was it really even worth it? To try and protect someone even if it meant risking my relationships?_

I know in my heart as soon as I ask this question, it's not a matter of protecting David. It's a matter of proving his innocence before Barney hurts him. This is about protecting someone who isn't guilty, not about my relationships.

I climb onto my fire escape, and dial the number I had retrieved.

"...Brenna?" I hear Drummer ask. I didn't question how he knew it was me calling, the man is CIA. And I was taking such a huge risk by calling him. He could very easily turn around and tell Barney, so I had to phrase my words carefully.

"Drummer," I say evenly, trying to keep my voice calm.

"This is a secure line-"

"And this is important," I interrupt. He pauses.

"Okay…"

"I know about David, and that he's been acting… odd lately," I tell him.

"Yes… we have him under surveillance. Why, have you noticed anything off about him?" he asks. I take a deep breath and begin my lie.

"Not exactly. I just don't want anything to happen to the people around me because I was careless with who I trusted," I tell him.

"So you want to know what I know?" he correctly assumes my question. I had to figure out what all Barney knew, so I knew what I had to fight.

"Yes."

"Have you spoke to Barney about this?"

"Are you seriously asking if I got my parents permission?" I ask dryly, and he has the decency to laugh.

"Well because this is highly unprofessional-"

"Then think of me as an employee," I interrupt him. He pauses.

"How do you mean?"

"In exchange for keeping a close eye on David and what he's been up to, I want you to tell me what you dug up on him," I offer. He's silent.

"You realize that basically gives you the mercenary title, right? David is an alpha one threat. I have all authorization I need to wipe him off the face of the planet, just based on what he knows and what he's sees in the last six months. And the way he's been acting lately-"

"And if you had any intent to do that, you would have. Starting with my dad, because he's been around a shit ton longer," I counter. Drummer is silent.

"He's still been sketchy, kid-"

"Then let me figure this out for you. It's a winning situation for you. You don't need to pay anyone to get this information and you'll still get it regardless."

He goes silent again. Then he groans.

"I don't know kid, that's basically me turning one of my response team's kids into a mercenary."

"Then don't mention it to him."

"I have to tell him, Brenna," he says dryly. I sigh. _This is why I had to phrase this carefully._

"Then tell him," I state.

"Seriously?" he asks incredulously.

"I need to do what I have to do to protect the people around me. If that means I'm a mercenary now, then so be it," I growl. _Even if it wasn't Barney that I was actually protecting._

"...Alright kid. I'll have someone leave a packet with what we know in your bedroom."

"I'm at Tools now-"

"We know," he interrupts, and I choose not to question how he knows.

"And in return, I'll expect constant updates with what you've seen David up to."

"You got it," I say evenly.

"I'm serious, Brenna. I want actual data-turning updates. If he even breathes differently, pisses differently, I know about it," he growls, a little less friendly.

"I heard you. I'll get it done," I say back forcefully.

"Good. I'll be hearing from you," he hangs up.

I hang up the phone and lay down in bed, exhausted. _God, save my soul._

When I wake again, it's dark outside. But the hall light shined in. My door was wide open and Barney was leaning against my dresser. I launch out of bed, alarmed. He looks at me sharply, and then his face softens slightly.

"Feel better?" he asks. I shrug.

"As I can be, I suppose," I comment. He nods, but looks like he's biting his tongue about something.

"What?"

"I just got an interesting call from Drummer…" he trails off. I gulp. _It's make or break time._

"And?" I ask quietly.

"How did you get his number?" he asks, his voice just above a whisper. _Fuck._

"David had it. I asked him for it," I lied easily. David likely did have it, but I couldn't risk having him text it to me. He couldn't be too involved in this. The less he knew, the safer he was.

"And he just gave it over?" Barney asks, doubtful.

"Not… exactly. It took some lying," I tell him. _Seems there's a lot of that going around these days._

"Drummer said you took a job with him," Barney says, still quiet. But I was just thankful he bought the number story.

"I did," I state. Barney's head snaps up, looking at me now.

"Why?"

"Because," I simply say, hoping he'll leave it at that.

"Brenna."

"Because I need his resources. I need to know what he knows in case I'm wrong. And if I'm wrong, and something bad happens to anyone around me and I could've done something about it, I'll never be able to forgive myself," I lie easily. It was getting easier and easier to do it now. Barney's jaw clenches.

"You could've just asked me what I knew," he counters. I give him a look.

"And I know you. You think like a mercenary and I may be your daughter, but trust is still earned. That was the only way I knew how to earn it," I declare. Barney meets my eyes briefly, and a look of understanding passes between us.

"And you're okay with double crossing a friend like this?"

A friend? Sure. My father, fiancé, and all my friends? Absolutely not.

"If it means keeping everyone around me safe. I'll do what I have to do," I tell him. He nods, suddenly accepting this.

"You realize you took a job from the government to-"

"I know," I answer softly.

"And you realize what title that gives you?" he asks once more, checking to make sure this is what I want. I look at him.

"Yes," I state, adding a touch of finality to my voice. Barney's shoulders lift and he straightens.

"If this is what you want. I've learned my lesson from the last time I tried to stop you from doing something like this-"

"Oh, you mean when you cracked a rib?" I mutter, pouting. Barney smirks.

"Yes, that, thanks for reminding me, you brat. I'm not gonna say that I like this but…"

"But?"

"You're my daughter and it's taken me too long to admit this… but being an Expendable runs in your veins."


	40. Chapter 40

_Barney's POV_

I was proud of her for finally coming to her senses. I don't know where this sudden bout of maturity and clarity is coming from, but if I know my daughter at all, it's because she's scared of someone getting hurt. And therefore, has gone into protective mode.

However, I was still concerned. This was how I got started into this business. And here we are a lifetime later, with plenty of regrets. I didn't want to see the same things happen to her that happened to me. But, she was working for me. So I could very easily make sure that never happens. But, I also won't always be around.

My inner turmoil is interrupted by Brenna, stumbling downstairs sleepily. It was around two AM, and it was just Tool and I awake. She looked hilarious as she basically sleep-walked over to us. She was wearing dark grey tattered sweats, and a overly large white sweater that went over her hands. Her black crazy hair was piled into a heaping mess on top of her head, and she yawned loudly into her sleeve. I chuckle.

"You know, it is two AM. You're allowed to still sleep," I joke. She shrugs. "Is Thorn still asleep?"

She nods.

"Are you capable of conversation?" I tease. She shrugs, smirking now.

"Was thinking about headed to the hospital to check on Reagan," she mumbles sleepily. I look at her, bewildered.

"You realize I just said it was two AM?"

"I just want to make sure they're okay-"

"At two in the morning? Darlin', they're asleep," Tool snickers. She yawns once more.

"And you should be as well."

She glares playfully.

"Maybe I just want to go see my godchild," she quips. I smirk.

"I forgot about that. So when's it your turn?" I tease, but her eyes widen in fear. And even though she's joking, the same feeling I always get when I see she's scared takes over my heart.

"Yea… no. I'd be a shit mom," she says, devoid of feeling as she stares off into the distance and shudders after a moment. Tool chuckles.

"Why? You're so used to taking care of us," he jokes. She scoffs.

"You can't be a worst parent than me," I grumble, and she pouts. She leans over and throws her arms around my shoulders.

"You're a great dad," she argues, and I pry her arms off me playfully.

"Alright, alright. Get off me, you mushy brat," I mutter, my face going red. I was glad no one was around. She laughs, and I realize she did that on purpose. I flick a card from the top of the deck in front of me at her and she deflects it with a laugh. Tool smiles at us fondly.

"I'll take you to go see him in the morning, go to bed-"

A knock at the door startles us all, and I stand immediately and put my body between the door and Brenna. But she walks out from behind me annoyingly.

"Know anyone?" I ask Tool. He shakes his head.

"Brenna?" he asks her.

"Not me. Could be one of the guys," she says quietly, staring the door down intently. A knock persists. I take the rifle that Caesar was cleaning earlier at the table and bring it to my shoulder. I approach the door quietly.

"Who is it?" I demand. No answer, so I load the gun. Brenna tenses briefly, and moves behind a shelf, at some point obtaining a handgun. I'm not surprised, we had them hidden all over the place. I was surprised that she knew where.

I crouch down and kick the door open, and see that no one is there. Instead, there's a brown parcel on the doorstep. I look around outside and see no one. I take the packet and bring it inside and my heart sinks when I realize what it is.

"It's addressed to you, Brenna," I mutter, tossing it on the couch. Leave it to an agency spook to be dramatic for no goddamn reason. Tool frowns, and leaves the room.

"He doesn't approve, does he?" Brenna sighs, ripping open the packet. She pulls out paperwork, photographs, the usual set up. She peers at them intently.

"I can't say I do either," I grumble. She looks up, and she surprises me with how apologetic her face is.

"I know," is all she manages. But she sounds sad, at least, to my ears. Like something else was bothering her. And she wasn't sleeping.

"Brenna… are you feeling okay?" I ask her. Her faces blanches but she remains completely still.

"Fine," she mumbles, looking back at her paperwork. I sigh.

"If you aren't sure about this, no one is forcing you-"

"I said I was fine. It's not this," she says quickly, to shut me up. But I get my answer.

"So something is bothering you."

She remains silent for a moment, sighs, and tosses the papers aside.

"Someone was waiting for me in my apartment, they covered their tracks well, my best friend is acting sketchy as fuck for whatever reason, he hates the people I consider family, my family hates him, my other best friend just had a kid of which I am now a godmother of, and all of this happened and I have zero answers for any of it. I don't know who is after me, if it's me they're after, I don't know why David is acting odd, I don't know why you can't trust him, and most of all, I have to do my damn hardest to keep the ones around me safe. Especially Reagan, for Aiden. Something changed when he was born. I'd do anything to keep those two safe. Thankfully, for the moment, Smilee is the better option. Because as far as I know, no one wants him dead. But apparently, someone wants me dead. Again," she rants, throwing the papers back on the couch angrily as she comes to the end of her tirade. I frown. She really hasn't had much of a break. But then again, I wasn't the cause of that. It was easier to accept that now, which made it easier to accept that was one of us. But that didn't change the fact that she was too good for this life.

Looking at her now, I realize how exceedingly obvious how she felt was. She wasn't angry, not even a little. She's used to this shit always infiltrating her daily life. No, this wasn't anger or annoyance at all. This was fear. And it fucked with my head. I rise from my chair, walking over to her once more.

"You're not angry. You're scared. And you're never, ever this scared. So why? You've been in worse situations than this. Why now?" I ask. She shrugs.

"Brenna."

"Because… I know how it will feel to lose you, or anyone else, now. I have to be careful, I have to be quick, and most of all, I have to fix all of this before it bites me in the ass," she rubs her face, suddenly looking exhausted. I sigh.

"Being scared to lose everything is no way to live. Trust me. I could be the poster for that life. I can't change how you feel, or at least, I don't think I can. I've never been good at that kind of thing. But all I can tell you is that if it's not something you can do at the moment, don't worry about it. Besides, I'm always beside you. You're not in this alone. So go back upstairs, go to bed, try to get some rest," I nod toward the stairs, but she just frowns at them. She turns toward the couch and sits down.

"I've got homework," she sighs, picking up the papers. I growl. Why can't she ever just do what she's told?

"Brenna-"

"I'm headed upstate today, by the way. I need to clear out mom's old storage unit. There's some baby stuff I want to give Reagan," she interrupts me, and I know her tactic is to distract me. It works.

"Wait, what? Someone could be after you, and you want to drive all the way upstate?"

"You said yourself not to worry until we knew something. And I need to do this. Plus, I'm going with David and Mira. It's a good time to have a chat," she shakes the papers in the air, referencing them. My lips tilt into a crooked frown, disapproving of her careless plans. But, she was right. We knew nothing thus far, Thorn and the guys were planning on continuing their search. And since Brenna went to Drummer, she had to do what she said she was going to do. And this would be the perfect opportunity.

"Fine. But I want to go with you. I told you I had your back, I meant it. That's how this works. We've got each other's backs," I tell her. And surprisingly, she nods.

"Well, that was my ass-backwards way of inviting you. I don't remember how much is in the unit, I need your truck," she says sheepishly. I laugh.

"Deal," I tell her, and she turns back to her papers. And I eventually decide to turn in for the night.

When I come back downstairs around nine or so, it's dark and quiet. I'm usually up before Tool anyway, but the figure on the couch startles me. Until I remember that it was just Brenna. I was shocked she hasn't gone back to bed upstairs with Thorn. She was curled up on the couch, passed out, and shivering slightly. I pull the wool blanket up to her chin and she eventually relaxes back against the cushions.

I pick up the papers on the floor beside her where she was obviously examining them and fell asleep. There were various photos of David in Kazakhstan, on whatever job Drummer sent him on. Looks like it was a simple weapons transfer operation. I eye them carefully. He wasn't doing anything incriminating, and sadly, it was impossible to nail him to anything. The only odd thing that he has done thus far was not alerting Drummer nor anyone else that he'd been in New Orleans for weeks. And now there's someone in Brenna's place waiting around, supposedly. We knew nothing, and it was both concerning and frustrating. Moreso for Brenna, I would assume. I've chosen to blindly distrust David, for her own safety, and admittedly there was not enough against him to accuse him of anything. But I was still getting a bad feeling from him, something I wish she could see.

"Sorry, I must've fallen asleep at some point," she suddenly jumps up, ripping the blanket off of her rapidly. I smirk.

"You're allowed to sleep, you know."

"And would you not be pissed at Lee or anyone else for falling asleep on the job?" she asks knowingly. I shrug sheepishly. She was right, but I didn't care. I was allowed to be nice to her, last time I wasn't, I cracked her rib and went missing. I hand her the papers back, saying nothing and she resumes her studying. Then her phone rings.

"Hello? Hey. Uh… anytime, I guess," she looks at her watch, listening to whoever was on the phone. Her back suddenly straights and she rises to her feet steadily. I turn toward her in interest.

"I see. And when did he say this? Okay, and why? No, nothings wrong. I'm fine. And he didn't say why..? No, I said nothing was wrong. Thank you. No it's fine, Barney's coming with me. Ok. I'll see you later," she hangs up the phone. When she hangs up the phone, she's holding it against her lip and staring intently off into space. She's shifts her eyes down to the papers, extremely deep in thought. She looked like me before a job, it was amusing.

"Something wrong?" I ask the little Expendable in humor. She turns toward me.

"David cancelled, he called Mira and told her to tell me. And Mira sounded terrible- she must have the cold that's been going around," she says flatley, still staring at the papers.

"What else?" I ask knowingly.

"He didn't tell her why he couldn't come," she mutters, going into brooding mode. I stiffen, but don't move.

"Don't panic until you have something, kid. In the meantime, we should probably get going. You still need me to take my truck?"

"Yeah, but I'm still gonna drive my Jeep up. I don't know what all is in this unit. Could be a lot and I'd rather not have to make two trips," she sighs.

 _Brenna's POV_

"So, did you just underestimate how much was in here or did you just decide today was a good day to die?" Barney asks in amusement, catching his breath as we load up the last box. I laugh quietly, drinking some water. But I didn't reply, my head was elsewhere.

 _Why would he decide not to come, and not give a reason?_

The papers Drummer had on David were alarming- he had photographs of David in compromising places doing sketchy-ass things. I told him I would keep both feet in each world, but it was getting harder and harder to trust him.

"Brenna?" Barney asks. I look up.

"Hm?"

"You've been so distracted these last few days… and you're hardly sleeping. Are you alright?" he asks.

"Yeah I'm fine, I promise. I just hate not knowing what's going on," I sigh.

"I know. I'm sorry. But you can't let it distract you. You've had enough near death experiences to last a lifetime," he mutters grimly. I scowl.

"Compared to you?" I jab, and he narrows his eyes.

"I've been doing this for a lot longer," he reminds me.

"Well, you could just stop," I mumble under my breath and Barney groans.

"Can we please not re-hash that argument? It's been so nice not to fight about it since I've been-"

"Dead? Because you went on a dangerous fucking job-"

"Brenna," he says through his teeth. I throw my hands up in the air, tossing my water bottle aside.

"You never want to talk! And instead we just fight! You think I _like_ fighting with you? I hate it. More than anything. But you won't ever even _listen_ to me. I have to scream to be heard, and even then, it's like talking to a brick wall!" I shout at him. I expect his temper to start boiling once I raise my voice at him, but instead, he smiles sadly.

"You look so much like your mother when you're upset," he sighs. I grit my teeth.

"Dad," I hiss through my clenched jaw. He sighs and sits back down on the bed of his truck. He gestures to the spot next to him and I reluctantly climb up and take it.

"Alright kid. I'm listening," he mumbles over lighting a cigar. I'm almost stunned that he was being so easy about this.

"Have you ever considered retiring? At all? Even for a second?" I ask. He exhales.

"Once. About twenty-two years ago," he gives me a knowing look.

"And what's changed since then?" I ask. He looks at me, bewildered.

"Everything. I've got a whole extra lifetime of blood on my hands, and if I'm going to hell, I'm tearing the place down as I go."

"No, not that. You almost retired because of mom and I. Mom died. And I came back. That's what changed. And moreover… well… you saw how I was when, uh, when you were gone…" I trail off, knotting my hands in my lap. I swallow forcefully, closing my eyes in anguish. I still wasn't entirely over it. It was easier to live everyday, accepting the great truth that I was still alive. But it was Barney that made that hard for me. I couldn't go through that, ever again.

I feel his arm swing around me and he crushes me to his side.

"I know, kid. I'm so sorry. More than you know. For everything since the day you walked into the parlor for the first time. I'm a selfish person by nature, and I can't _ever_ be that way with you. So, yes, I never want to talk about this. Because not only do I feel as though I can't retire, it's also because I don't want to. Believe it or not, I like this job. And it's incredibly selfish to you to put you through that. It's why your mom ultimately decided to leave. But you're stronger, no offence to her, and probably dumber-"

"Hey!"

"Let me finish. You're possibly dumber as well, which means you've put up with my bullshit for longer. And I hurt you… _constantly_ , because I'm essentially just selfish. I try not to be with you, but the harder I try, the more we seem to fight. And I can't stand it… you're my _daughter,_ Brenna. I care about you more than you could ever understand. So, I get why you want me to retire. And if it means that much to you, and if it helps ease your conscience at all… I'll _think_ about it. Maybe set up a time frame when I'll walk away. Is that fair?" he asks, but I shock him by throwing my arms around him happily.

"I love you, dad," I say, and he grips me back.

"If you breathe a word of this to the guys, I'll gut you," he mumbles grumpily. I laugh, but it comes up strangled as I begin to cry. Barney pulls back swiftly, looking at my face.

"Cut that shit off," he mutters, annoyed. He wipes away a tear, frowning. I make a pouty face at him and he punches my arm. This time I manage a laugh.

"Alright, enough with the feely shit. Let's go home," he gets off the truck bed and gestures to my Jeep. "When did you lift your Jeep?" he asks.

"While you were gone. Tool gave me the kit to distract me. Took me forever… I don't think I did it right though. It feels too bouncy now."

"Well, lift-kits make it seem like that anyway."

"Yeah, but it's _too_ bouncy. The shocks make a weird noise if I go too fast," I grumble. Barney frowns.

"Here, trade me keys. I want to hear what you're talking about so I can fix it-"

"You don't have to-"

"Give me the damn keys, Brenna," he laughs, rolling his eyes heavenward. I toss him my Jeep key and he tosses me the truck key. "This is what normal dads do, right? Fix their daughter's car?"

I frown.

"Your guess is as good as mine," I say dryly, and he laughs.

"Alright, I'll follow you back. If you fuck up my truck in any way, I'll reciprocate the damage onto your Jeep," he warns and I snort.

"You paid for the Jeep," I remind him. He chuckles, pointing to the truck.

"Get in the damn truck, kid," he tosses his cigar and climbs into my Jeep. I get into the truck and after making some adjustments, I drive off. I grin because it was fun to drive. He never lets _anyone_ even touch his truck- I was definitely going to be gloating about this later to Lee.

 _Barney's POV_

She probably messed with the suspension too much. It sounded funny as well, but it wasn't anything of concern. It was an easy fix. But I was glad she told me before something went wrong with it. I was proud that she tried to though. For an inexperienced mechanic, she did a pretty good job. Yet another thing we had in common.

I see her up ahead driving my truck and I smirk. I know she was probably jamming out on the radio, singing as loud as she could. I saw in her eyes how happy it made her that I just listened to her. I also knew she was probably going to rub this in Christmas' face.

As I'm thinking all of this, I get a call from her.

"Do you feel anything?"

"Yea, I think the suspension is just off. It's an easy fix-"

As I'm talking, I see a black van suddenly speed past me and toward the truck. We were going about sixty and he was going eighty, and I had a feeling it wasn't just a speeding car. And I'm left to do nothing but sit and watch helplessly as they ran into the rear left tire of my truck, and send it flipping through the air. I pull out my gun and shoot the tires of the van, sending them skidding into the guardrail. But my truck was still flipping down the highway, at an alarming speed. _Brenna._

It eventually skids to a stop upside down, rocking back and forth. There was no doubt it was totaled, not that any of that mattered right now. I slam on the brakes, positioning the Jeep in front of the truck in case anyone who gets out of the van is armed. I needed to get Brenna out of here. I climb across the Jeep and jump out of the passenger side with my gun in hand. No one was getting out the van, so I take the precious seconds I have and run over to my crushed truck.

Inside, Brenna is unconscious with shards of glass everywhere. She had cuts across any exposed skin, but I couldn't see how badly she was injured.

"Brenna? Can you hear me?" I call to her, still keeping an eye on my surroundings. She shifts toward me, her green eyes fluttering open. She coughs, clutching her abdomen in pain. She begins to panic as she looks around at her surroundings.

"Don't move! I don't know how injured you are. I'll get you out," I tell her and she nods weakly. No one had emerged from the van yet, and the windows were tinted too dark to see anything. _What the hell are they waiting for?_

"Brenna, put your hands on the roof and brace your weight. Mind the glass. I'm going to cut your seatbelt," I tell her, and she does as I say. I pull out my knife and slice through the belt easily. She falls to the concrete, trying to crawl out of the truck.

"No, don't move! Just hold still," I warn her, and she looks up at me with hazy eyes. She definitely has head trauma. Her eyes go over my shoulder and widen, and I spin around in time to stop a fist coming toward my head. He was wearing a mask but he was also twice my size. One punch from this guy could knock me out. He charges at me, tackling me to the ground with ease and putting a rope around my neck. Suffocation begins to cloud my ability to fight back, and I see Brenna trying and failing to crawl out of the truck. She gets halfway, and collapses back onto her side. She looks up at me weakly, her eyes wide and afraid. I _hated_ how she looked when she was scared. _More than anything._

I get a sudden surge of strength, and shove my elbows back into the man's rib cage with a force not to be reckoned with. A sickening crunch tells me I've met my goal of cracking a few ribs. He releases the rope, doubling over. I deliver several punches to his injured rib and all it takes is one solid punch, and I'm on my back. He's about to jump on me again when a bullet goes right through his eye. I twist around from my spot on the ground to see Brenna managed to get to her feet, find the gun that was knocked aside, and kill the assailant. She lowers the gun and tries to step toward me, but fails on the first pressure she gives her leg. I was up in a flash to catch her.

"Brenna, hey. Hey. Are you with me? You good?" I shake her as she laid across my arms, but I was pretty sure she was unconscious completely this time. I lay her down on the concrete and check for injures. She had a few bad cuts from glass, and she probably had a wicked concussion. She had a shard of glass protruding from her abdomen, but it wasn't deep. I take it out gently and use my flannel to tie a cloth to the wound. But aside from that, she seemed fine. I lifted her up and put her in the passenger seat of the Jeep. Then I took out my gun again and approached the van cautiously. The drivers side door was open, from the now dead assailant, but there was no one else in the van. Which was odd… a huge van like this for one man? I wished Brenna hadn't shot that man, we needed him alive for questioning. Who the hell was after her, anyway?

I check the contents of the van. Just weapons, a few tech supplies, and several open seats. There wasn't even a sign that anyone else would've been in the van. _Someone was trying to be careful. But who?_

I make a few calls and waited for them to show up. It would be about two hours, but I had a lot to do. Brenna's belongings were scattered across the highway. So I was clean up crew until they arrived.

Drummer was first, arriving in a helicopter. Then, I see our van approach.

"Where is she?" Thorn tears out of the van before it's finished stopping, and Doc follows with his case. I point to the passenger side of the Jeep. He races to the Jeep as the speed of sound and rips open the door, anxiety clouding his eyes. He steps back briefly in shock when he sees how roughed up she looks.

"It's all visual. She's okay," I tell him as he gently takes his fiancé in his arms. Doc checks her various cuts and abrasions, but all seem to be minor, as expected. He confirms her concussion, and Thorn regathers her in his arms protectively. She stirs awake.

"Ethan?" she says weakly, looking around slowly. He gently caresses her face and lays her back down onto the seat. He presses his face against hers, closing his eyes as his facial features level out from fear and worry to relief. She nuzzles his face.

"Hey, I'm here," he whispers. She takes his hand, swallowing dryly.

"Is he okay?" she rasps. _Who?_

"Is who okay?" he asks.

"Barney. Where is he, is he okay?" she asks. I was standing on the other side of the passenger door, she didn't see me. But her words bring warmth to my black heart. I walk around the door and her eyes go from worried and scared to relieved. She sits up abruptly, and before I realize why, we're grasping each other in a tight embrace.

"Are you alright?" she asks me. I scoff.

"I'm fine, kid. You ok?" I ask. She shrugs.

"Been better. What happened? After I shot him?" she asks. I released her from my grasp to look at her.

"Nothing. There was no one else," I say, frustrated. She slumps over.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to kill our lead. I just figured there were others," she frowns, disappointed in herself.

"Don't be. It's weird that no one else was here. I would've done the same thing," I tell her. But she only slumps over further.

"Are you gonna total my Jeep?" she whines, likely drowsy from the concussion. I chuckle, easing her back into a lying position.

"No, I'm not. Why don't you get some rest?" I suggest but her brows furrow.

"'Was worried," she mumbles, closing her eyes and beginning to drift off.

"About what?" I ask.

"When I woke up. 'Was worried. Can't lose you again," she whispers quietly, falling back asleep. I feel my face turn red because I know the team heard her. I take her hand and squeeze it.

"Ditto," I murmur mainly to myself.


	41. Chapter 41

_Brenna's POV_

"Can I have my baby back yet?" Reagan complains.

"Nope," I mutter, pacing around the parlor with a small Aiden in my hands. My head was throbbing, but all I've wanted to do for the last few days was hold this little guy. It's been several weeks since the incident and I'm only just now feeling a little better. That car accident through my neck out, my back, gave me a concussion, and cuts and bruises all over. Now, they were all almost healed. But my head still ached.

"You know, he's mine," Reagan pouts, and I laugh.

"Thanks for all the baby stuff, Brenna. Even if it did almost kill you," Smilee says gratefully. I grin, but my eyes don't leave sleeping Aiden's face. Thorn comes up behind me.

"You're so good with him," he murmurs wistfully.

"Look at who my dad is and who gave me this ring and take a wild guess why I'm good with infants," I say dryly. He laughs but Barney snaps his head up from across the room. He was recovering from his recent knee surgery, he's now officially part robot.

"Hey!" he mutters gruffly. I snicker, and Thorn kisses my temple. Then, sleepy little Aiden stirs from his nap in my arms. But he doesn't cry.

"Hey, little baby. Did you have a good nap? Yeah?" I coo to him, and he just stares at me in wonder with giant blue eyes. Then, he melts my heart by smiling at me. I gasp.

"Reagan. Reagan! He's smiling!" I hiss, and she gets up and walks over to me. I hand him over unwillingly and his smile widens when he sees his mommy. Her and Smilee begin to cuddle him up and all his adorableness. It was weird seeing Smilee act so… human. Eventually, the baby needs to go home and they take off for the night.

"How's your head?" Barney asks later on as I pace back and forth behind the couch. I grimace and he laughs.

"Your knee?" I ask, and I get a similar reaction. I sit down on the couch next to Thorn, rubbing my head.

"Anything?"

"No. The plates were fake, they wore gloves while driving or riding in it so there's no prints, and the guy who attacked you doesn't even exist. His fingerprints are even melted off his fingers. Whoever he works for was thorough."

"No sign of any kind of motive?" I ask him, and he smirks.

"No, boss. And what about in your end? How's David looking?" he asks. I swallow, but try to remain stoic.

 _He's hiding because he's very easily put himself in target number one's seat._

I still recall the conversation I had with him, or rather, the argument.

" _Do you have_ any _idea how this looks?" I demand from him. David frowns._

" _I know. I'm sorry."_

" _Don't be sorry! Give me an alibi!" I hiss under my breath. Since David became public enemy number one, I have no doubt he's under scrutinous surveillance. Which means I have to be careful when I talk to him, what I talk to him about, and most importantly, where. Phones couldn't be trusted at all, even burner phones. If Thorn could trace those, it was a no go. So I had to work around Mira. And unfortunately, that mean Mira and Zane had to know about this. It was the only way to get messages to and fro without being detected. And now, tonight, I'd decided to go out for a friends night with them. A loud, music-blaring, club was the safest place I could talk to him. Which did nothing for my concussion at all, but I promised Barney I wouldn't drink. A promise I had no problem keeping._

" _I just woke up… off. Sometimes I wake up in the mornings and I'm just not in a good state of mind. Because of Mia. And being around Barney…" he trails off, and I know what he's going to say. I sigh, closing my eyes._

" _I hate this. I hate it more than anything. Brenna, maybe I should just leave again. I'm not wanted, and I could ignore that if I wasn't causing you pain. I hate the people you consider family. It's unfair to you, it's why I left in the first place-"_

" _And if you leave now it'll only be more suspicious. Besides, you shouldn't have to fight and hide this much to live out your life as a free man. I knew you shouldn't have gotten mixed up with Drummer," I growl to myself. David gets defensive._

" _He's a good man-"_

" _And supposedly, so was Church at one point. I'm just saying. I wouldn't turn a full shoulder away, he may take the opportunity to stab you in the back," I warn. David's lips press together in an unhappy line._

" _Could say the same about your little group-"_

" _David," I hiss through my teeth._

" _See? This isn't going to work. We don't share the same views on this at all. So why are you even bothering trying to help me?" he demands. I whirl around to face him, bewildered._

" _They aren't the only people I consider family. And sometimes, families don't get along. And that's fine. But usually when that happens, neither party is at risk for death. And I can't lose you," I tell him, and it's his turn to look incredulous. It stuns him to silence._

" _Okay. I'll be more careful with how I do things. Until this blows over. Any idea who this guy was?"_

" _Not a clue. Don't suppose Drummer knows anything..?"_

" _Brenna. For the last time. He didn't orchestrate this. I would know. I realize you have trust issues since the whole Church thing, but Drummer isn't like that," he sighs, looking at me knowingly._

" _I need something to give Drummer on you. Something more than you just weren't up to going with us that day. Do you have anything that would help your case, anything at all? An alibi proving you were here?" I ask. David sighs, thinking deeply. His eyes snap open and he turns to me._

" _I ordered take out at 3. There's probably some kind of trace on that. But I didn't even leave Mira's place, and they weren't there-"_

" _No, that's fine. At least it's somewhere to start. Thank you, David."_

" _No, thank you. You're already doing too much. I don't think I'll ever be able to pay the debts I owe to you," he puts a hand on my shoulder. I look at him and smirk._

" _Just keep from getting killed and we're even, got it?" I ask. He laughs, giving me a thumbs up. "And also, I'd start hiding a little. Make your face pop up across the city maybe once a day, once every couple of days. But for the most part, lay low. Here's an address you can go to if you ever feel like you need to hide."_

 _I hand him the address to the condemned property of Wiley's bar. No one would look there for him, he has no ties to that place except through me. And no one expects that I would ever be helping him._

" _Got it. Anything else, boss?" He laughs and I shove him away playfully._

"Ever since the take out thing? No. He's pops up from time to time across the city, groceries, getting food, hanging out with Mira and Zane, etc. Never anything incriminating," I inform. Thorn frowns, and I can tell it's because he's disappointed with the lack of blood on David's hands. I repress a sigh. _Why can't they just accept how incredibly innocent he was in all of this?_ I go into brooding mode just thinking about it.

But I understand why. Everyone was paranoid right now. Especially those who were closest to me. Not that I blamed them, if the roles were reversed I'd be the same way. Suddenly, a lightning bolt of intuition zaps through me so rapidly it feels like my skin is singed. I sit up abruptly.

"What is it?" Thorn asks.

"You said there were no prints in the van, no clear motive, no traceable leads?" I ask. He nods, suspicious.

"Yes..?"

"And there was no footage proving we'd even been followed from the storage unit? We weren't being watched?" I asked.

"No, there's nothing, Brenna. What's this about?" Barney asks from his usual corner. I put a hand up to silence him.

"So, this person, or persons... they're being cautious. They're hanging back. They can't risk getting caught. That's why they send the identitless man to come after us in a half-assed attempt to kill me. But it was too easy. A trained professional, someone who really wanted me, wouldn't have just tried to crash the car I was driving. No. They wanted to size us up. That's why they sent no one else. They wanted to see what we were made of," I tell them. Barney frowns.

"Okay, that's great, Brenna. But that doesn't give us any new information-"

"It gives us something. These people are cautious, they don't have us under close watch because we'd be able to detect it. So, there's no way they would've known that we switched cars at the storage units," I tell Barney and he sits upright.

"They weren't after you. They were after me," he says quietly.

"Exactly. This isn't about me."

"Then who was in your apartment?" Lee asks. I frown, thinking hard.

"The van. The van at the beginning of the footage that we talked about. Is it the same one?" I ask Thorn. He shakes his head.

"Not exactly, different plates. But if they're being as cautious as you say, it's entirely likely that they were switched between then and now. Someone could've found the connection between the two of you."

"So, now we know it's Barney they're after. But in actuality, that just widens the field. Brenna has very few enemies but Barney's are unlimited," Tool mutters, annoyed. Barney scoffs in agreement. _God, why did we know nothing? Why were we so in the dark? When has it ever been like this, we usually have Drummer to help or even Thorn. But we had nothing._

"Earth to Brenna?" someone shakes my shoulder, and my head snaps up.

"What's up?" I whip my head around to see who it is, and I'm shocked to see Gunnar standing behind me with Galgo.

"You might want to come outside, we said," they say mournfully. I rise to my feet swiftly, alarmed by their tone of voice. Everyone in the room does as well. I follow Galgo outside, Gunnar following me closely in a protective way. It was concerning, and soon, Barney read their stance and approached my right side.

When we step into the dark street, and Drummer is standing in the middle of the street with an SUV and several other men that were armed to the teeth. _What was going on?_

"Brenna," he greets through his teeth. I square my shoulders. _Shit. He knows._

"What's the problem, Drummer?" Barney asks. I take a deep breath.

"Brenna needs to come with me. Now," Drummer explains.

"Why?" Barney demands, putting a firm grasp around my wrist as I start to walk forward.

"Because there are… new details about her assignment that she needs to know about. And I can't tell her here, where it's unsafe. We can't have ears on, and the only place I know that can't be compromised is back in Washington-"

"No. Hell fucking no. She isn't going to Washington DC. What's the problem, Drummer? If you've got one, you hire my team. Not my daughter. I thought we discussed this," Barney growls. I whirl around to him.

"You've _discussed_ this?" I demand. He looks sheepish, but it wasn't the time for me to be mad at him. He was already about to be furious with me for technically betraying his trust. And even so, it was a little funny and I can't hold back a slight smirk. His eyes soften when he sees me struggling to keep a straight face.

"What's this about, why can't we go with her?" Thorn approaches my left side, hovering over me protectively. Drummer looks at me and his eyes narrow.

"Something tells me she doesn't want you to come. Come on, Brenna," he gestures to the backseat. He climbs in and sits there, waiting for me. I start to walk toward it but Barney stops me again.

"Brenna, what is going on?" he hisses. Tears form in my eyes, tears of fear. I have no idea what's going to happen now, and I pray that Barney and Thorn just stay safe. No matter what happens to me. I doubt I was walking into my own execution, but something tells me Drummer isn't exactly looking for my easy way out either. When I turn around, everyone looks shocked at my tears.

"Please just… stay safe. No matter what," I tell them quietly. Thorn launches in the direction of Drummer to demand to know what was going on but I stop him by throwing my arms around him.

"I love you, always. I'm so sorry, Ethan. More than you'll ever know," I whisper into his neck. While I spoke to him, I'd slipped off my engagement ring and dropped it into his back pocket. He may not want me to wear it anymore when he finds out. Then I hug Barney, who's still confused.

"Brenna, what is going on? Whatever it is, you have to tell me so I can help you," he begs quietly. I smile to myself sadly. He'll always be there to help me, but I think after today, it'll be the last time.

"I can't. I dug my grave. Now I'm the one that's gotta lay in it. No matter what, please don't… be irrational," _once he finds out, he'll try to kill David,_ "and most importantly… I love you, dad. Please forgive me," I hiss, and leave his side. I walk to the SUV and give everyone a brief nod and get in.

"Brenna, no, wait-" Thorn cries desperately, but the door slams shut and Drummer cues the driver to leave.


	42. Chapter 42

_Brenna's POV_

"You don't look very scared… just sad."

"Should I look scared?"

"For the sake of wasting time trying to intimidate you, because I know what your bloodline consists of, just say yes."

"Then yes."

Drummer sighs, both frustrated and annoyed.

"Why did you do it, Brenna? Why?" he grumbles, but I can tell he's stressed about something beyond me. This was larger than just me. No, something really bad was coming.

"What happened, Drummer? This seems… big."

"I can't tell you everything until we're in Washington. There's gonna be some people that'll want to talk to you. They'll put up a good show trying to scare you. Hell, it might work. But you should know they have no legal right to lay a finger on you. And they'll have to answer to me for that," he adjusts his suit and looks out the window. _Shit. I'm going to be interrogated._

"How long will they keep me?" I sigh, knowing how this works.

"If you cooperate, and I advise that you do so I can explain the situation to you sooner, I doubt you'll be in the tank long. But like I said. They can't touch you," he warns again. His reiterations foreshadows how bad this was going to seem. _You can't let fear rule your head, Bren._ Barney's voice appears in my head, calming me. I recall his words after one of my many nightmares. _It's the fear that'll get you hurt, kid. You can't let fear rule your head, Bren._

God, he was going to hate me.

"When will Barney know…?"

"I'd imagine soon."

"I should be the one to tell him…"

"Then I can arrange that. I admire the courage it'll take," he says. My mouth sets into a suspicious, grim line.

"Why are you being so… calm?"

Drummer sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Because I know where you're coming from. And I know your father is already going to try to kill me, possibly literally. And… because you're going to be forced into fixing the situation," he says, but he doesn't sound happy about it. _What situation? How bad was this?_

"So what does all this have to do with David?" I ask. He looks at me, and his look tells me he can't answer that now. I sigh. "You don't sound all too happy about me being forced to fixed whatever is wrong."

"I'm not. But it was either this, or they'd sent you to an underground prison complex in GITMO, where Church spent some lovely time. And you saw how he turned out," he says grimly. I swallow. _All I did was warn David he was being watched. How bad was this, and how deep did this go?_

"So you made a deal on my behalf that'd I'd fix it? Why?"

He scoffs, putting in his aviators.

"Believe it or not, I'm still human, kid. I don't want to see you locked up. Besides, I have faith that you will fix it. You have heart."

"Drummer… what did I do? All I did was warn David he was being watched. How bad is this?" I ask, sighing. His jaw tenses and he looks at me.

"It's deep, Brenna. That's all I can say."

I sigh and sit back in my seat, as we approach the airport. This felt like the beginning of a shit storm.

"Mira?!" I exclaim when I'm walked into the containment room. Zane was there too. I tried to walk over to her but the man holding my arm jerked me back to his side. "Hey, I'm here aren't I? Where am I gonna go?" I demand. He sneers and releases my arm by shoving me into the room. He leaves and slams the door shut.

"Brenna, I'm so sorry. I'm really sorry. I didn't think," she apologizes and I see she's been crying. My brain goes into panic mode.

"Sorry for what? What happened? What does this have to do with David?" I demand. Zane sighs, comforting Mira.

"There were things that David was doing… that we didn't tell you. We couldn't. It would have put you in a situation where you'd have to tell Drummer. And it wouldn't have been fair to you. And on top of that, Barney would've been assigned to kill David. If he hasn't already-"

"What do you mean if he hasn't already? What's wrong with David… what did you guys not tell me?!" I cry, panic seizing me whole now.

"I'm sorry. We couldn't say. You weren't safe to know. It wasn't your fault, you had to do what you could to keep everyone safe and Drummer knew that… but they think you know what he's been up to. They think we've been telling you what he's been doing and you've not said anything. We tried to tell them that you didn't know anything, I'm so sorry-"

"Mira. You've got to tell me what you've been hiding from me. Please," I beg, taking her hand.

"Miss Ross?" I hear a man say behind me. I grit my teeth and close my eyes, barely turning to to look at him.

"Yes?" I say as politely as possible, but it comes out as a growl.

"You'll need to come with us, please," he says in a monotone voice. I stand, looking back at Mira.

"We are gonna talk," I warn her and follow the men out.

 _Barney's POV_

"He won't answer the damn phone. He always answers it. He's doing it on purpose," I hiss, throwing my cell phone across the room.

"You broke another phone-"

"I've got another one!" I snap at Christmas. He scoffs.

"You need to relax, Barney. We'll hear something soon," he says. Thorn's head snaps up, anger in his eyes.

"Oh really? I don't think her giving me her engagement ring tells me she's going to be right back," he slurs in the corner, a bottle of whiskey in hand. I give him a wary look.

"You shouldn't be drinking, kid," I mutter, annoyed. I get that Brenna basically just ended things between them, but none of it was official and we didn't even know why.

"Right," he hisses, taking another slug. I've never seen him like this before. Gunnar snatches the bottle from his hand, and Thorn stands up to challenge him. It reminds me of when they used to not get along.

"Hey! Enough!" I bark.

"Why didn't she tell you what was wrong?" Reagan sighs, frustrated with her best friend.

"I doubt she knew. She seemed… scared, herself," Tool says, rubbing his eyes. _Yes, that she did._

I'll never forget the look she had in her eyes when she turned around to look at us. There was fear, shame, and guilt. There was something about her looking scared that always got to me. Maybe it was because the emotion was so rare in her. She's always so brave, and calm. It runs in her veins. _So does being an Expendable._ She'd do anything to protect everyone she cares about, even if it means being incredibly naive...

Shit. I think I know what she did.

 _Oh god, Brenna. What have you done?_

 _Brenna's POV_

I was exhausted. I'd been in interrogated for at least twelve hours. But they weren't going to break me. I've told them everything I knew. I haven't spared a single detail. I have no reason to. But they didn't believe me.

"You know, Brenna-"

"No, what?" I interrupt sarcastically. The man with jet black eyes and no hair grins at me without humor.

"In this line of work, I would advise keeping the sarcastic comments to yourself," he hisses.

"What line of work? I'm a tattoo artist," I smirk.

"Right. You also killed Church, a plethora of his men in a safe house, and three bums of New Orleans. You've got quite the record in just a year and a half. So don't feed me that tattoo artist bullshit."

"It's not bullshit. Yea, I did those things. But I was still a tattoo artist. And those actions were taken under special circumstances of which you were not there for. The lives I've taken? They were in an effort to protect the people I care about," I sneer.

"Clearly. Since you so willingly told our suspect that he was being watched," he sneers back. I straighten my shoulders and lean up to look at him in the eyes.

"Yes. Yes I did. And that's _all_ I did. And you know it, because you've just said it. So stop fucking wasting my time and your own with trying to accuse me of something I didn't do. Especially since I have no fucking clue what has been done. So fucking stone me, if you're going to. Because frankly? I've grown tired of the bullshit," I snap at him, and he grits his teeth. He turns on his heel and storms out, slamming the door behind him. A minute later, Drummer strolls in and releases my cuffs. He hands me a bottle of water.

"Good job, kid."

"Good job what? I sat in a chair for twelve hours and then listened to the best theatrics the agency could offer. Truthfully? Could've done better," I grump. Drummer raises a brow.

"Well, it was more fun when we could actually hurt people. Now it's for pussies," he jokes.

"Clearly. Can I know what's going on now?" I ask. He sighs.

"Yea. Come on, we've got a lot to talk about," he gestures to the door and we walk out.

We walk side by side in silence for a long time. We walk down a large hallway, glass, as men and women in suits rush past to different places.

"Where am I?" I ask.

"Langley, Virginia. Headquarters," he says simply and I halt in my tracks. I thought I was in Washington?

"Seriously?" I squeak. He smirks.

"You're fine if you stay with me. Besides, you're technically an employee," he jokes.

"I thought I was on my way to Washington?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"You were, originally. I changed it to here, this is my turf. I can control it better," he says. I nod, understanding.

"What's all this about, Drummer?" I ask, exhaling. He stops walking in front of the glass and stares out the window.

"David… he's been… playing us."

My heart stops.

"What do you mean?" I ask. He turns and looks at me.

"I'm gonna start explaining it to you, but you can't interrupt me until I finish. Deal?" he asks. I nod.

"I presume David told you about how he ended up imprisoned, because Church killed his father?" he asks. I nod once more.

"His father was a good man. He was a good agent. I knew him. Everyone did. We were devastated to learn of his passing. But he was very… career oriented. His family was of importance to him, but minimally. His job always came first. And ultimately, it's why David and Mia paid the price. And we looked for years to try and find Mia and David. But, in the state that Church was in, we assumed they were dead. And David only… well, imprisonment in a facility like that fuck with your mind. You saw Church. And then Mia died and I think something must've snapped inside him. He went off on his own after a few jobs I gave him. I understood why, I kept my distance, but I still checked up on him. And… well, he's gotten himself in trouble, Brenna. He's a good kid mixed up in the wrong world and blaming all the wrong people. And he's not working alone, thankfully. If he was, we'd have to bring him immediately. But this way we have to investigate him and I have a reason to believe he's being manipulated, possibly with the same drug they used on you-"

"They being Church's men? Hasn't Barney and the team been steadily sweeping them out?" I demand. Drummer shakes his head in humor.

"Should've known you wouldn't be able to resist interrupting. Not quite… David's father, well, he was adamant about the agency not using mercenaries. Too many loose ends, he said. He was after your team while Church was in control of operations. But, he was a good man. He would've never ordered the Expendables be killed. He just wanted to cease our use of them. And Church, when he came after him, gave him an option. He could kill his son or go after to the Expendables. Church thought it'd be an easy decision. But truth be told, there's no better team of trained killers in the country, possibly the world. David's father, Calvin, knew that when it came to national security and CIA, the Expendables had to be alive. That, and if there was anyone possible to save his kids, it'd be that team. So, he made the wrong, or right, choice. He refused to do either. So Church killed him and took David and Mia. David heard the entire exchange. He became vengeful. And then the prison environment didn't help. He wanted Church dead, and then…"

"He's wants the Expendables dead," I finish. I can't believe David would lie to me about what his father did. He sighs.

"I wish it were that easy. He hated them, but then Mia died… and I think it solidified his plans. But you? You're the only reason he hasn't gone after them. He cares about you so much, you and Mira. He'd never do anything to hurt you, but, you've made it easy. Now that your team has him in watch? It's only provoked him further. He's unstable, and he's been unstable for a while. He wants your team dead and any one like them. Mercenaries, all kinds alike, dead. He can't see that becoming an executioner of sorts means he's no better than a mercenary. The only problem is, we don't know _who_ he could be working for. Whoever it is, they're using David as a front. But David… doesn't _want_ this. They just have something on him, that, and he's being manipulated and drugged. That's the only thing we've got."

My shoulders slump in disappointment. That was it? That's all we had?

"So… what? The agency thought Mira, Zane, and I were working with David? That we knew something?"

"There was that suspicion, yes. But mainly we thought he could've confided in you about anything. But now your names are cleared," he assures me. I sigh, looking out the window and facing away from him.

"Not quite."

He frowns, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, kid. This is just… business. This is how it starts. When shit hits the fan, the last thing I want for you or for anyone else is blood on your hands. Which is why I'm having you fix it," he says ominously.

"You've mentioned… but how? We don't know anything," I grump. Drummer shakes his head sadly.

"The Expendables have t-minus six hours to accept a job offer…" he trails off, and my heart suddenly thuds in my chest.

"For what, Drummer?" I ask. He frowns at me.

"To kill David. And like I said, he's a good kid and an asset. Just mixed up. So I'm hiring you and your team as a rescue mission, under the radar. Save David, bring him here, and we can try to work this out in a safe environment. Figure out who he's working for before the Expendables can follow through with their job, a job by the way, I didn't call," he finishes. I gulp.

"My team? What team?" I ask.

"Us," someone says behind me. Mira and Zane are fired up, ready to go. Then two men I barely recognized were also geared up behind them.

"We never met officially after we were part of your extraction back in Luanda. I'm Trench, this is Yang. Drummer is your pilot. We're your new team."

* * *

 _Brenna's POV_

"So where is he?" I ask, looking at the impressive array of computers, monitors, television screens, and equipment. Drummer's armory and headquarters had nothing on Barney's.

"He's good at disappearing. Which is good. Mira leaked to him that the Expendables were coming after him, on purpose. He took off, now we have to find where and retrieve him," Drummer says.

"I spent years in prison with him. I thought I knew him," Zane spits. Mira puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Whatever is going on in his head, Zane… you can't blame him. We've just gotta focus on getting to him first," I comfort him. He nods and refocuses.

"Brenna… you may want to call Barney," Drummer says, handing me his phone. I sigh, my heart beginning to thump into my throat.

 _Barney's POV_

"So… are you gonna take the job?" Christmas asks warily while my team looks at me. I take another long drink of the bourbon I'd poured myself. I have a strict no drinking or substance rule for myself, but to hell with all of it. I needed to be drunk for what I was about to do.

"What do you think?" I slur. Christmas frowns.

"It's not up to me, Barney, she's your kid-"

"And she also lied to me. For weeks. Betrayed us, her own team, for one person. He _must_ have something over her. If only she'd just _let me help her,"_ I hiss through my teeth. Words could not describe how angry I was with her. But it could all be fixed by eliminating the source of all her problems. To take away all this shit.

"We're taking the job. Thorn, start looking for David. I want this over, I want Brenna home," I mutter. Thorn stands, looking like utter shit and miserable, but his eyes come alive again as he finds a new purpose.

"Barney, I don't think David has anything over her, I just think she thoroughly believes he's innocent-"

"Not now, Tool."

"If you kill him, she'll hate you!" Tool stands, finally blowing a gasket.

"And if I don't kill him before she gets to him, he could kill her! This could be a trap! And for all I know, this could be what starts a long career of mistakes for her. David _has_ to go," I roar back at him. My daughter, my incredibly naive, stubborn, and stupid daughter, won't pay the price for his mistakes.

My phone suddenly rings. It's Drummer.

"Drummer, we're taking the job-"

"I figured you would," Brenna's voice says quietly. I launch up from my spot, so quickly it knocks over my glass and chair. Everyone looks at me. I hadn't realized how worried I was about her.

"Brenna? Where are you?" I demand. She sighs.

"Take a guess," she mumbles. Langley, probably.

"What's going on, Brenna? What does David have over you?" I inquire. I hear her sharp intake of breath on her end.

"Nothing, dad. He has nothing over me… is that what you think?" she asks incredulously.

"Because it's the only thing that makes sense! You'd never be this stupid! Please tell me you aren't just doing this because you think he's innocent!" I bark. She silent for a moment.

"He is, dad. He's a good person with a shit deal of cards, and he's just messed up right now. I've got to help him, I don't have a choice-"

"Of course you do! Don't give me that bullshit, Brenna! You have a choice-"

"No, I really don't! I made the choices that led me to here, it's either this, or GITMO!" she yells back at me. I roll my eyes.

"It's a fake threat, Brenna. They can't get you with that!" I warn her, annoyed by her naïveté. But it was partially my fault; she'd know all this had I just taught her anything about being an Expendable while I had the chance.

"Maybe not, but you know as well as I do that I could still go to jail for a very long time," she says softly. My hard demeanor melts. She sounds afraid, and I know that's why I've suddenly gone soft.

"I know. And I can protect you. If you just _let me._ Let me help you, Brenna, please," I beg her. She's silent again.

"I know you can. But… I have to do this. David isn't a bad man. He's working for someone who's fucked with his and head. We have to get to him before it's too late-"

"You mean before my team tries to kill him?" I snap.

"Yes," she snaps back.

"And who is 'we'? Who are _you_ working for, Brenna? You're an _Expendable._ Please stop this and come home before it's too late! You can still gain our trust back, just-"

"I was never an Expendable. You never would have been okay with it, not really. You would've sidelined me, kept me in the plane, for my safety. It was never gonna work," she says, her voice laced with a cold and chilling finality. And she's right, I would have. I pushed her away for the last time. I recall our fight about David the night that Reagan gave birth. That's what must have sparked this. It was the last straw for her, and I've finally pushed her too far away.

"Brenna… I'm sorry…" I trail off.

"Don't. Don't be sorry. Just don't go after David, _please-_ "

"I'm going after him. If it means this will be over sooner and I can talk some sense into you, he's as good as dead," I warn her. She takes a staggering breath.

"Not if I get there first," she challenges. I square my shoulders. _Brenna, don't do this._

"You realize what this means right?"

"I'm perfectly aware."

"No, I don't think you do. We're against each other. We both have opposing jobs. And if we're caught in a crossfire? We _will_ be forced to fight you-"

"I'm _aware,_ Barney," she snaps, and her use of my name instead of dad tells me there's no changing her mind.

"And if someone on your team gets killed? You really want that blood on your hands?" I ask.

"If you or anyone else kills anyone on my team, so help me god, you'll _never_ see me again," she warns quietly. Her omission stuns me to silence briefly.

"And what if you have to kill one of us?" I demand. She's quiet once more, for a lot longer.

"I don't know," she answers honestly, surprising me. I doubt she'd be the one to fire a single bullet at us, but her team probably had zero problems taking aim at us. And honestly? I was probably in the same boat. Except they'd never shoot Brenna.

"Brenna. This is going to be a massacre. With lives lost. You've lost so many people already. Don't add to the list," I whisper coolly.

"No, _you_ don't add to the list! Don't you dare threaten my team!" she hisses. _Why? Why are we doing this to each other?_

"Come home, then. It'll all be over the moment you step foot across the parlor door. I promise. I'll forgive you. Just come home," I try one more time.

"No. I'm _saving_ David. And if it means laying across the wire to let my team crawl over me, so be it. If it means going up against you-"

"Your family?!" I snap at her.

"My family would listen to me, and trust me. My family would know the difference between protecting me and hurting me! My _family_ wouldn't try to kill _my friends! THIS IS NO FAMILY_ ," she roars, cracking the audio in my phone. Her vehemence and hatred stuns me to silence. I have nothing to say. But I wouldn't give up.

"I won't give up on you, Brenna. I've failed you by protecting you too much. But I won't give up," I tell her quietly, closing my eyes.

"You may want to consider it. Because if this ends badly, if anyone around me gets killed or hurt, I'm _never_ coming back. Sure, the blood will be on my hands. But I won't be the one that pulled the trigger. That's what _you_ will have to live with," she declares coldly. I shake my head.

"I can't make that deal, Brenna."

"Then this is goodbye. If it's not too much to ask, tell Thorn I'm sorry? For everything," she says evenly, but I can tell deep in her voice she's scared and destroyed. And even lonely. It only makes me feel more desperate to get her.

"Brenna-"

The line goes dead. _Fuck._

I reflect briefly on her time here, how I could've done things differently to avoid this. Maybe it wouldn't have pushed her away. Hell, maybe she wouldn't have been kidnapped by Church to begin with.

"Well? What did she say?" Thorn asks, his voice cracking. I look at him with pity.

"She wanted me to tell you she was sorry," I say, and Thorn's eyes sink deeper into his face. He shakes his head, turning back to his computer.

"That's not good enough," he growls. My team was growing vengeful by the minute, thinking it was David driving her away. But it was me. And ultimately, she will be the one to pay for it. And I had to stop it.

 _Brenna's POV_

"How did he take it?" Drummer asks. I hand the phone back to him, impressed with myself for not crying. But my new team couldn't see me that weak. I had to be strong and level-headed for this.

"Not well. Which means we need to find him. Now," I declare, launching forward toward the computers. I wasn't Thorn, but I sure as hell paid attention. And now I was determined. Because I was at war.


	43. Chapter 43

_Brenna's POV_

 _three weeks later..._

"Are we sure it's there?" Trench asks me. I was zipping up my gear, the gear lended to me by Drummer. I'd practiced with it briefly, but upon practicing, I realized I didn't need it. I was still sharp. We still had some close-quarters combat training, for Mira and Zane mainly.

"Positive. Five kilometers north of the army base. It's where he keeps reappearing. It's a pattern. It's always in Kazakhstan," I tell him.

"If we can trace a pattern, so can Barney-"

"I know," I cut him off, pain lacing through me. It still hurt to hear about anyone from the Expendables.

"And you're sure you can do this?" he asks. I sigh, turning around. He wasn't thrilled about being led by a twenty-two year old girl, since my birthday was last week.

"Trench, I've got this. And besides, I'm not the leader here. Drummer is-"

"No, I'm not. I'm just helping. By saying I'm the leader means I've chosen a distinct side, which could get me in trouble. This is under the radar. No kid, this is all you. This is your response team. Own it," he nods at me, and I stiffen my shoulders.

"I never wanted to be a leader of anything," I mutter.

"Well, it runs in your veins," Yang jokes. I laugh and then sigh sadly. _Yes, it did, unfortunately._

"Okay! Wheels up in ten, get your shit! If we found him, so have they! Let's go!" I bark out, and everyone scurries. Admittedly, it felt good to be in charge.

* * *

I was in the co-pilot seat of the plane Drummer was flying, as he taught me the various controls. _It should be Barney doing this._

I push the thought out of my head immediately. I needed to detach from home. I had no idea what hell awaited me in Kazakhstan. We know it was a safe house for David. We know it was heavily guarded. But if I could just get him to listen to me, he may come with me. Unfortunately, whoever he is working for is likely there as well. We were going in blind, and we had no idea what to prepare for. So we were armed to the teeth.

"We'll have to do a recon first, just to be safe. And it'll have to be fast. If we wait too long, we'll give away our location to the target and to the Expendables," I tell Drummer. He nods, smirking.

"Yes boss," he mutters. I glare at him and he chuckles. Then his face grows sorrowful.

"Brenna… I'm sorry. For all of this. I won't be surprised if Barney actually tries to kill me for this-"

"I won't be surprised if he tries to kill _me_ for this," I mutter, half joking. Drummer snorts.

"He won't harm a hair on your head, I know that and so do you," he mutters. I shake my head.

"He's broke my rib before," I mutter and Drummer actually laughs.

"True. But this is different. You've said that Barney is a mercenary first and a father second… but that's bullshit. Trust me," he says. I turn to him, shocked.

"Have you talked to him?" I ask, bewildered.

"Did. Once. He begged me to force you back home. And when he realized my hands were tied, at least to an extent, he just asked me to protect you," he says. Drummers hands weren't exactly tied, but he needed David either dead or alive to interrogate. When the agency went directly to the Expendables, Drummer knew Barney would rather kill him than bring him back. And alive was better, so Drummer had to step in under-radar. That, and I secretly think he cares for David like a son. They'd spent a lot of time together after David left about a year ago. They went on various jobs together, I think David even saved his life.

No matter what, this wasn't good. I could feel my sixth sense, my bad mojo, tingling up my spine. It seared goose bumps painfully up my arms, and it causes my hands to clench around the controls. Drummer notices.

"Something wrong?" he asks. I shake my head, jaw clenching tightly. He turns toward me more.

"What the matter, Ross?" he asks me. I shake my head.

"I get these bad feelings sometimes… I'm getting a really bad one right now. _Really_ bad. Drummer… no matter what, this doesn't have a good ending. It's a no winning situation. I lose no matter what," I explain to him, keeping my eye on the horizon as he completely gives the plane over to me. "Uh… you really want me flying a plane right now?" I squeak. He laughs.

"I wanted to check on something in the back. And referring to your concern, at the end of the day, you've been given a shit life to begin with. You know that. Your life consists of shit decisions. Frankly, everyone does. You just have to work with the lesser of the two evils, or several evils, and hope for the best. That's all you can do," he advises. I sigh.

"Best case scenario is Barney hates me for the rest of my life and Thorn…" I trail off at the mention of my ex-fiancé. _God it hurt to even think about him._

Barney I could manage. But I had to avoid Thorn at all costs. His voice, his face, his eyes. If there was anyone that could talk me out of this, it'd be him. And I couldn't be around that kind of weakness. On top of that, my heart was already thin ice. If I saw… Ethan… it would shatter. It killed me inside to do this to him.

"Ok, I'm going to the back to check on the gear."

"Wait! I can't fly the plane!" I panic. Drummer had a flight simulator for me back in training, just in case something bad happened to him or Trench and I had to fly the plane. But this was different. He laughs.

"You've been flying the plane by yourself for twenty minutes. You just didn't know," he winks and leaves the cockpit, and I stare at my hands in disbelief. _I have…?_

"This shit runs in your veins, kid. Just accept it."

"Welcome to Shit Paradise," Trench says gruffly as he walks down the planes loading ramp.

"Nice landing, Ross," Drummer says proudly. I roll my eyes at him.

"I hardly did the work," I mutter as we exit the plane. And Trench was right; this was a shithole. The country itself was beautiful, but this area was war-torn by private army disputes and ammunition and weaponry deals gone wrong. Combine that with the Kazakhstan army nearby, and we've got a bad day ahead of us.

When we get to our safehouse, we suit up and begin to recon the area quickly.

"Okay, what's the plan?" Mira asks me, a rifle at her toned shoulder.

"We split in groups of two to cover more land. This is _not_ a combat mission, just recon. We're here to survey, get a body count, and hopefully some new intel. But we've gotta do this fast. My guess is we've got about six hours until Barney can track us down, and that means we've got less than twenty four hours to recover our target and get the hell out. I'm full anticipating an interception upon extraction so we gotta prepare for the worst. Here's the layout,"

"It's got a double wide ground feet with several vantage points in the hills. Keep low, keep your thermals on at all times, and never engage unless fired at. If you're pinned, hold down as best you can and wait for one of the closest teams to find you. Yang and Mira, I want you in the trees and vantage points-"

"Why us?" Mira complains, wanting to go with Zane.

"Because you're smaller," I tell her, and Yang smirks as if I've told an inside joke.

"Anyway, Trench and Zane will be on the ground with Drummer and I. We split down the middle and go left and right. Mira and Yang will have our overhead in case anything goes south," I explain. Thankfully, Mira and Zane were put on sniper training weeks ago. Hopefully they've retained it.

"Anything else, boss?" Trench jokes and everyone snickers. I roll my eyes.

"Nope, let's go," we stand swiftly and begin our first job together. I know Barney would be proud of how I've handled things… I just wish this could've been him and I.

* * *

"You know, the whole GITMO threat was a hoax… they never could've-"

"I know," I snort, interrupting Drummer as I look through my binoculars. This wasn't a safehouse, it was a goddamn fortress. David could be so deep in, it was making a twenty-four hour mission seem impossible.

"Shit," I hiss under my breath.

"If you knew, why did you come? You could've gone home-"

"This isn't the time," I interrupt again. Drummer sighs.

"I just need to know, Brenna. In case… things don't end well," he says evenly. I look at him, shocked.

"In other words, if I die, you want to make sure the blood isn't on your hands?" I ask. He looks at me and smiles in a sheepish way.

"Always with an attitude. Yes, okay? I want to make sure you're here for the right reasons, and not because I forced you to," he admits. I roll my eyes.

"I'm here because David doesn't deserve all this shit. I'm here because I'm tired of my life and my decisions never being my own. I'm here to stand between the bad and the worse, to defend the people I care about. I'm here because it's the right thing to do, Drummer, and if I die because of it then the blood isn't on your hands," I tell him and he takes a breath as if he's relieved.

"Did it bother you that much?"

"Yes. You're the youngest I've ever worked with, and you're someone's daughter. It makes a world's difference to me. This isn't a moral thing to do, and-"

"There he is!" I hiss as I see David walk out. He looked like shit. I hadn't seen him in almost a month and he's lost weight and large dark circles were under his eyes. _They were drugging him._ Rage like no other ignited every pore on my body, steaming out of me.

"He's drugged. Likely the same shit they gave to me. You were right," I hand the binoculars to Drummer for him to look. His shoulders slump when he sees him.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Positive. I would know," I sigh.

"Do you guys see him?" Mira asks over the COMS set.

"Yes. He looks like shit," Zane says from his location on the other side of the compound. Mira cusses in what I assume was Portuguese since I didn't understand her.

Drummer suddenly tenses, peering intently through the binoculars.

"What?" I demand.

"It can't be," he hisses.

"What?!" I demand once more, in a panicked voice. He slumps down, dropping the binoculars. I scramble to catch them and peer through them as well. There's now an older man about Barney's age standing next to David, with a hand firmly on his shoulder.

"What's the problem, Drummer? Who is that?" I demand.

"That's… that's Operations Lieutenant Alhauser…"

 _Alhauser…?_

 _Fuck. David's father was alive._

* * *

"How is this possible?" I ask Drummer later on that day when we've reassembled at our safehouse.

"I have not a single fucking clue… shit. He must've been working with Church from the start," Drummer was looking and going over the blueprints for the compound we'd recovered.

"So… where does that leave David?" I ask.

"I have no clue. This sets us back. We need to figure out what the fuck is going on… but Barney is already on the way, which is confirmed," Drummer growls. My stomach drops, and I suddenly realize what I have to do.

"Then we need to leave," I tell them. They look at me crazily.

"Why? You're giving up?" Trench snorts. I shake my head, swallowing loudly.

"No. We need to trick Barney into thinking we have him. And we need to figure out what the hell is going on but we have _no one_ on the inside…" I trail off and Drummers eyes go wide. He stand abruptly.

"No. Absolutely fucking not. Brenna, that won't even work. They'll just kill you. It's not even worth the risk-"

"She's right. This is easiest way and the best way to protect David and get the information we need," Mira chokes quietly, looking at me with eyes wide with fear. For me.

"Wait what? What's going on?" Zane demands. I sigh, closing my eyes.

"You guys need to get on the plane and leave. Tell Barney it's over, and we have him. I'm going to surrender by the compound and get taken so they bring me inside," I explain. Yang stands.

"This could work… they won't kill you because we could set up a diversion. Make it seem like we were trying to infiltrate the compound. They'll want answers from you. Who did this, why, who was after them. Drummer, this could work," he tells him. Drummer shakes his head.

"You realize they'll torture you, right? You'll be a POW, they _will_ break you, Brenna-"

"It wouldn't be for the first time," I remind him somberly. His face changes, to shock briefly, and then resolution.

"I could take your place-"

"David won't trust you enough to talk to you. He has no clue why I would be here. Mira and Zane had been keeping tabs on him and reporting it to you, which is why David knew to run. He knows Mira and Zane are associated with you. It has to be me," I tell him. He sighs, nodding.

"Okay. Let's do this," he sighs.

* * *

"You know, I promised your father I'd keep you safe. I swore I would," Drummer grumps as we take position to stage an attack.

"I know. I'm sorry," I tell him.

"Just… survive? For my sake. I'd rather not get murdered by your lunatic mercenary of a father," he mutters and I chuckle under my breath. It's quiet for a moment. It's dark out now, only the frigid wind rustling through the trees make any noise.

"What should I say to him?" he asks suddenly.

"Tell him I went back to Langley with you-"

"Brenna, that won't work. You're gonna be gone for… a while. You know that. I don't think everyone else does, but between you and I, we both know this isn't gonna be a quick process. If you're missing for several months, I can't lie to Barney about your location for that long. He'll know. Especially when Thorn tries to find you and gets nothing. They'll ask for my help. And then what?" he demands. I sigh, turning to him.

"Tell them… I went off on my own. That it was my choice, not yours. Tell them I've got my own team now, and that I'm going to be gone for a while. But tell Barney and Thorn that no matter what happens… I'm okay," I choke when I get to the last sentence. Drummer nods.

"Okay kid. I will… and before all this shit goes down you should know, you are the bravest and most loyal person I've ever had the pleasure of working with. Your father would be incredibly proud," he slaps my shoulder. An explosion rocks the compound wall, signaling that Yang was ready for our staged assault. I look at Drummer, refusing to let the fear rule my head.

"No matter what happens to me. Save him," I tell Drummer. He nods, and he knows it's not just David to who I was referring.


	44. Chapter 44

_Barney's POV_

"Shit. Already?" Caesar asks as Drummer's voice comes over the radio in the plane.

"It was an easy recovery. David _is_ innocent. He's just freaked out," Drummer explains. I growl, frustrated. They were already back in Langley with our dead man. And it was true, the plane was spotted on Thorn's surveillance.

"I'm going to fucking kill you when I see you Drummer," I threaten him. He sighs.

"It's over, Barney. Just let it go. I'll pay you for the trouble you've gone through so far," he offers. It wasn't a bad idea, but that's not why I was pissed.

"Put Brenna on," I demand. Drummer goes silent.

"She said no," he says flatly.

"What?!" I bark.

"She's in the back with the rest of the team, unloading our gear," he explains. I grit my teeth and the rest of my team leaves the cockpit and heads back to their seats out of respect to my privacy.

"And is she coming home afterwards?" I hiss through my clenched jaw. Drummer was quiet again.

"She's going off on her own, it seems. Of her _own volition_ , I had nothing to do with that. She's accepted a job offer from our operations lieutenant. She'll be gone for awhile," he explains and my heart sinks. Then that was it. She was officially a mercenary, and it was my fault for driving her away.

"Can you tell her something for me?" I ask, trying not to let the pain show in my voice.

"What?"

"Tell her… I'm sorry," is all I manage. But there was so much more I wanted to say to her. Everything I wanted to say couldn't find their way to my lips in time, because Drummer hangs up the phone. And my heart slips one shade blacker.

* * *

 _Three months later…_

Rusty's was busy tonight, which meant it was loud and lively. Which is how I usually like it, it makes it easy to talk about our jobs in a joking way without seeming like lunatics. But I couldn't help it. Each time the crowd parted by the door to let in someone new, I hoped her face would appear in the mass of people. But I knew that wasn't possible. She'd been gone for almost four months. I hadn't seen her nor heard from her since that phone call. _God, what a shitty way to end a relationship with anyone._ Especially your own flesh and blood. But, at least it was all over. And wherever she was, she was happy.

Drummer assures me from time to time she's alive by sending me pictures of her jobs once in a great while. Thorn tries to find her to this day, based on the information Drummer tells us about where she is. But he assures us it's a waste of time- he's not even entirely sure where she is. And she's was trained in her three weeks with him to lay low and off the radar. Now, he regrets, he trained her too well.

I don't work with Drummer anymore. I didn't blame him for Brenna and her choices… but that didn't mean I didn't resent him for all of this mess. Or David. I would very much like to run over David with my new truck, but unfortunately, he was on Brenna's new team she had assembled. So they were as good as gone.

I was impressed that she managed to put together a team, and a little proud. But I had to squash those feelings down. Pride, sorrow, regret, all of the feelings. They had to be repressed. Because it's been made adamantly clear to me that she wasn't coming back; ever. And maybe that was for the best. It still hurt like hell. Thorn still looked like shit. He'd beefed up a little bit more since she's been gone. I guess he's trying to keep busy. But his alcohol habits were… not great. Gunnar has kept a close eye on him because of it, but he doesn't want the help. So it makes it hard to try.

"Barney!" someone yells my name, and it's Christmas. He's holding out a beer to me.

"Thanks," I mutter and take a swig. He nods.

"Stop thinking about it. It'll ruin the mood. We just finished a twenty mil job. That's fucking huge," he grins. We were a little roughed up, Luna had a broken leg and Toll Road was shot twice in the shoulder. Doc was stabbed in the arm, but all of these injuries weren't concerning. And I was glad we all came back mainly in one piece. Especially now that my knee is finally back up to functioning. It took some time to adjust to the metal replacement.

"Yea, you're right. How's Toll Road?" I ask him. He shrugs.

"He said he was doing fine. Luna as well. They won't be here tonight though, they're just gonna take it easy I think," Christmas explains. I nod.

"Gunnar! She's not interested man!" I shout over to him, as he hovers over a grinning and uncomfortable hostess. He glares back at me, and the team erupts into laughter.

After several hours, we call it quits for the night. I check my phone and see that I have five missed calls from Tool's garage. My heart races and I call him back.

"Hello?" Thorn answers, and my heart sinks. I'm surprised I didn't notice he wasn't at Rusty's. But I suppose he has become the quiet one.

"What's up kid?" I ask.

"You need to get the team and get here fast."

 _Shit._

* * *

"What's this about Thorn?" Caesar demands when everyone is finally here, excluding our three injured members.

"I've started keeping tabs on Drummer about a month or so back-"

I sigh.

"Kid, you've really gotta let this go," I mutter. He shakes his head.

"No, listen. At first there was nothing. He was in Langley. But then he was spotted with _Mira and Zane,"_ he explains. My heart somersaults in my chest, but I remain stoic.

"So? Brenna is probably back from a job. No big deal," I try to sound nonchalant but my voice almost cracks. If Brenna was back, that meant she really _did_ have no intention of coming back here.

"No, see, I thought the same thing. But they were boarding a plane with Drummer. There were more on the plane but I couldn't see who," Thorn says turning back his computer to show us.

"So… she's already on another job? I'm confused why this is important, Thorn," I huff, exasperated. Thorn rolls his eyes and point to the screen.

"That's where the plane is now. Look familiar?" he asks. I peer at the screen and I feel my breathing catch.

"They're in Kazakhstan," I whisper.

"Exactly. They never extracted David. They left him there," Thorn says. Tool shakes his head.

"That makes no sense. I get that they don't know anything, neither did we, but Brenna would _never_ give up on this. Ever. She left all of us to help him, for gods sakes. So why would she leave?" he asks. He was right, it made no sense. _She's the most stubborn and loyal person I know. Why would she….._

My stomach drops and I feel my black heart crush into a million disintegrating dust particles.

"She didn't leave," I whisper hoarsely. No, she didn't leave.

"What do you mean?" Thorn asks, his voice wavering slightly.

"She would've died before giving up," I choke out, and Thorn's face falls. I watch deep within his eyes as he completely falls apart. He storms out before his pain becomes evident.

"What's going on?" Galgo asks, confused.

"They never extracted David because they couldn't. They tried, and Brenna must've been killed," Tool breathes. As soon as he utters the words, I collapse into a chair. _She was dead. She's been dead. For months._

"It makes so much sense now. Why we couldn't find her, or David, why Drummer hadn't tried to make amends by finding her. Why he won't talk to us. She must've died and she asked him not to say anything," Smilee says mournfully, putting his head into his hands. He was likely thinking of how he was gonna tell Reagan, who was already devastated by her best friend's absence.

"Barney… I'm so sorry," Christmas says. The team grows completely silent in mourning.

 _Sabrina… I'm so sorry I didn't save her. Please forgive me._

"What do we do?" Gunnar asks. I couldn't let this mournful shit rule me. She deserved so much better than what she got. So I'd start by avenging her.

"Intercept Drummer and his team, kill David. Whatever the fuck happened, it's _their_ fault," I snap through my teeth. Sorrow and sadness over death was a foreign feeling. Revenge wasn't.

* * *

" _Are you sure you don't want to name her?" Sabrina whines. I chuckle._

" _What's the rule about puppies? Never name them if you want to sell them," I joke, and she swats at me with her free arm. In her hands, was a small infant girl. With big, bright green eyes. Like her mothers._

" _Nice, you jerk. This is your daughter you know," she mutters. I sigh wistfully._

" _No, she's not. She's your daughter, Sabrina," I remind her. Her face falls, and she looks back at her daughter with tears in her eyes._

" _You think she'll turn out okay… you know, without you?" she asks, tears choking her voice. My jaw clenches as I try to avoid the emotion that arises when I see the fear in her eyes. I hated it when she looked scared._

" _She'll turn out better, Sabrina," I tell her, and she nods as tears spill down her face because she knows I'm getting ready to leave for the millionth time. But this time, it was for good._

" _She looks like you," she laughs sadly, through her tears. I swallow and lean down by the hospital bed, kissing her forehead._

" _Then you'll always have a piece of me with you," I tell her lowly, allowing myself these few moments of emotion before I walked out on her and my own daughter._

" _Can you look me in the eyes and tell me something?" she asks. I lean back and look at her gorgeous green eyes that melt my icy heart every time._

" _Anything."_

" _I need to know that she wasn't a mistake to you," she says, closing her eyes as if in pain. I grip her face and force her to look at me._

" _No. She's… she's the best thing that could've ever happened to me. So are you. She just can't be near me. You know why. I'd never forgive myself if I lost her because of what I do," I choke. She nods, cuddling her child closer to her._

" _Now I want you to do me a favor, okay?" I ask her. She nods._

" _Don't tell her about what I did. Tell her I was a superhero or some shit. Kids like that stuff, right?" I ask. She laughs at my cluelessness and nods._

" _I'll do that, Superman," she giggles. It'll be the last time I hear her laugh, and I try to memorize the sound in my head. My hand tightens around hers, and I lean down to meet her lips on last time._

" _Raise her right, Sabrina," I murmur against her lips._

" _She's your daughter. She's already perfect," she whispers through a sore throat. Oh, how I wish that were true._

" _I love you. Both of you. I always will," I stand up straight, walking stiffly toward the door._

" _I love you, Barney. Forever," she says, and the last thing I hear before I shut the door is a small whimper from an infant._

I launch up from the bench in the back of the plane, nightmares like no other plaguing my head. These nightmares were different than the ones I had when Brenna was captured. These were worse. Playbacks of memories where I could've done the right thing. Where I _should've_ done the right thing.

"Barney? You alright?" Mars asks. I stand up and head toward the cockpit.

"Fine," I mutter. Lee was still flying the plane.

"You were only asleep for an hour or two. Are you sure-"

"How long?" I ask before he finishes.

"A couple more hours still. Which means you can still sleep-"

"I'll fly from here on out," I interrupt him once more. He sighs, giving me back the controls. I had to rid the feeling of death and despair from my head. It was so much worse knowing I'd failed Sabrina twice, both in keeping her safe and Brenna. I really was meant to be alone. Brenna never had bad luck. Not once. She was always meant to die, because that's how the world runs around me. And I shouldn't have let her back into my life. Not once. I don't care if Wiley would've killed her first. Then it wouldn't have been in some freezing shithole in the middle of nowhere. Alone. Rage like no other consumes my soul and I dial Drummers number on impulse. Christmas looks at me.

"Thought we weren't gonna tell him?"

"I'm changing things."

"Barney?" Drummers voice comes across the plane audio, he sounds shocked. He should sound regretful. He will.

"How long were you planning on keeping this from me, Drummer?" I roar, and his breath sucks in sharply.

"How did you figure it out?" he asks, impressed. I close my eyes as pain grips me once more. Part of me hoped there was a slim chance we were wrong. But now we knew for certain.

"Was she afraid?" I hiss, because he'll die slowly if she was. Something about her being afraid has always bugged me, even with Sabrina.

"No. She wasn't. She was incredibly brave," Drummer said evenly. I grit my teeth. Of course she was, Brenna would never go out like that. I should've been there. At least then she could've said her goodbyes. She didn't deserve it.

"You better hope you're gone by the time I get there. I'll make you suffer ten times the amount of pain she felt before she died. I swear to you," I fume.

"Barney, wait, no!" I hang up the phone before he has the change to a single pathetic excuse.

"He knows we're coming now," Christmas sighs.

"I want him to live in fear during his last moments," I growl vengefully. Christmas sharpens his knives quietly.

"I'm truly sorry, Barney-"

"Don't," I almost croak pathetically.

"Okay," Christmas says, turning back around. Eventually, he gets up and heads to the back of the plane. Likely for my privacy.

My hands clench around the controls of the plane as I send a first silent prayer to my girls above, if there was a god. I prayed Brenna's soul was still pure enough to avoid the eternal damnation I would endure. I prayed that Sabrina was currently engulfing her daughter in her arms, and wherever they are, if possible, they were happy.

Without me.


	45. Chapter 45

_Thorn's POV_

"Did you hear..?" Christmas asks me. I look at him numbly and nod once. He sighs.

"I'm sorry, kid-"

"Don't. Save it for after they're dead," I hiss. Gunnar, her next number one fan, scoffs in agreement. Smilee had warmed up to her as well since Aiden was born. And now Aiden was already godmotherless.

I close my eyes, finding solace in visualizing what our life could've been like.

She would've walked down the aisle in a beautiful white gown, she would've looked at me with the same love she always held in her eyes for me. And maybe one day when the time was right, I could've walked away from this life. With her. We'd have a few kids, maybe. But the point was that we'd have everyday of forever to be by each other's side. I'd have every day to hear her laugh, to see her sweet smile when she leans into my hand as I caress her face, to hold her close…

The visualizing sometimes gets so real I can smell her. Lavender and rose, the sweetest smells combined to make heart ache with ferocious loss. I shake myself mentally. _Enough, Ethan. For gods sake._

But my mind kept wandering off. Her deliciously soft lips against mine, now rotting somewhere six feet under… it was enraging. She must've been so cold… she hates the cold.

I'll never forget the way she looked at me when she told me she loved me. It made me feel like I was floating. Like I wasn't some murderous lunatic, worthy of a girl willing to fight and die for what she believes in. A girl so stubborn… if only she'd have let me help her. She felt like she couldn't trust me to tell me she was lying to us about David… or, I guess, she wasn't. Drummer assured us she didn't know about anything bad he did. But she sure as shit knew he was up to something… and all she wanted to do was save him. And now she was dead. And he would pay. Rage tried to claw its way back into my heart, but it was too late. Mournful ache creeped into my soul to take root, like a shadow cast over any light left within me. The pain was indescribable. Every sweet moment, every laugh, every kiss, I wish I never felt. I couldn't deal with this pain anymore.

 _God, Brenna, I wish I never met you._

I suck in a sharp breath as I think the words, because they aren't true. I'll love her for every second of my dark and twisted life.


	46. Chapter 46

_Brenna's POV_

 _two months earlier…_

I was choking again. The cloth held over my face was soothing on the wounds inflicted to it. But the frigid water that was being poured overtop it was less so. I must've passed out briefly again. My body begins to convulse around violently as my lungs try and fail to breathe in.

"Let her breathe," someone orders. They grab me by hair and jerk my head upwards.

"You know… I admire you. You would've made a great agent. Now I see why Church was so fascinated with you. You tolerate pain very well," Calvin Alhauser says behind me. I tried to focus on something in the room, to keep my head from spinning. But it was no use.

"You aren't… the first person… to try and break me," I rasp, trying to breathe.

"True. But, Church needed you healthy to perform accurate drug tests on you. I don't," he threatens. And he was right, in the one month I've already had with him was worse than Church. But I could take it. Even if it was kind of making me unstable. I feel a strange feeling on my arms, I realized they've strapped me down with boiling metal chains and it's searing into my skin as it pins me. I smell the familiar smell of burning flesh, my flesh, and I resist the urge to scream. I groan into the rag that covers my mouth once more. They burned the bodies of who they kill all the time, or the people he just wanted to see burnt alive. I constantly smelled burnt flesh. It was Alhausers kick.

Despite all this fucked up shit, I had to focus. I was here to uncover why David was here, why his dad was alive, and why he lied about everything. And if that meant enduring this torture, so be it. But the problem was… David hadn't come to see me once. He saw me get taken, he made eye contact with me, and the turned around and walked away. I'll never forget the frantic feeling in my gut when he walked away. I was on my own in this, but I had to remember all the ways David taught me to deal with the unpleasantries of POW life.

"I'll ask you one more time, why were you here? What were you after?" Alhauser says calmly on the other side of the table. I glare at him through the steam of my burnt flesh and spit toward him. I could taste blood still in my mouth. Alhauser sighs and gestures to my shoulders. They hoist me up and shove two molten cattle prods into my shoulder. I groan, falling to my knees at they tear out of my skin.

"Did your team of misfit muts send you? Because the team you were with when we captured you did not look like them," he asks calmly. I continue to say nothing, both because I refused to give in to his torture and also because I can't think about anything else but the pain.

"Fix her up how she needs to be and throw her back in her cell. Maybe some time in isolation will fuck with her head more. This is quickly becoming my new pastime, Brenna. I'm looking forward to our next session… let's just say it'll be familiar," he snickers as he leaves the room. And I know what he means... next time he'll be back with the drug. The doctors in the room tend to my various wounds so I don't bleed out. But I pass out before they finish.

* * *

I wake in my cold and dark cell, on the ground. I groan, pain radiating from even inch of my body. I flip over onto my back, coughing and trying to breathe evenly. I was fucked up, I felt it. My arms were stitched up, my wrists were burnt to shit but they were bandaged up with dirty rags. My lungs felt like they were on fire. I clutch the wall but my hands just claw at the cold, black grime. I hoist myself up after finding a crack in the call wall and bring myself into a sitting position. That's when I come face to face with him.

"How are you?" he asks me as he tries to tend to my wounds. I kick his stomach and he flies backward, despite my sore and depleted muscles. He raises his hands in a sign of defeat.

"Brenna… it's okay. I'm here to help you. Let me help you," he begs me. I glare at him, hatred and energy that I very much needed burning brightly within my war-torn soul. This, this was what I needed. I needed to be angry, to have a purpose. When I was with David and Mira a year ago, my purpose was getting them out of there and killing Church. But it wasn't enough to want Cal dead. I wasn't fighting for anyone, just myself.

Suddenly, little baby Aiden pops into my mind. How I would do anything to see him once more. And Reagan, Thorn, Barney. My family. _I can fight for them._

I turn back to David.

"Bullshit! If you wanted to help me, you wouldn't have turned your back on me a month ago! You wouldn't have abandoned me, left me here for a while _fucking month_ to be tortured like this-"

"I know. I'm sorry. But I can't come see you. I'm on watch. It's taken me this long to come see you now," he explains. I look at him, and I see the very deep fear in his eyes, and I sigh.

"What happened, David? What do they have over you?" I rasp, and he hands me a canteen of water which I take gratefully. He sighs.

"I'm sure you know by now that my story of how I ended up mixed in with Church is a little more complicated than what I originally told you?" he presumes.

"I've been told your father refused to squeal to Church and you and Mia paid the price," I say between gulps of water. He nods.

"When I went off on my own after I got back, and my face resurfaced. My father, Calvin Alhauser, found me. And I was pissed. I tried to kill him because he should've protected Mia and I, and I was pissed that he faked his death. I didn't understand it. But Church and my dad worked together. My dad never wanted the Expendables dead, just gone. And Church… well he wasn't a huge fan of them to begin with. But they were friends. And when Church went dark, and got caught, he was thrown in jail. He blamed the Expendables, yadayada, and the rest was history," he explains. I lean forward slightly.

"Okay… so what's the point?" I ask. He sighs.

"Who do you think let him out of jail?" he asks dryly. I slump against the wall.

"Your dad," I whisper. He nods.

"Yes. But it wasn't a possible task, not without proving he wasn't in on it. He had Church pretend to kill him immediately, which eliminated him from the list of people who could have let him out. Church forced Mia and I to look away when he shot him. My dad sent us away with Church to protect us from anyone that would come after his family for answers- because eventually the agency would figure it out. But Church didn't like the loose ends. So he told my dad that we were killed in a prison raid, the raid that Mira was part of at the right time. So he kept us as lab rats. Tortured us. And when I got out, my face resurfaced and my dad found me. But what I found… was not my dad. At all. He's been the real face behind Church's whole operation. It gave my dad plenty of breathing room. No one was looking for the dead man. Of course, Church didn't know he was a pawn. Which is why your Expendables have yet to finish wiping out Church's operation. Because it was never his," he explains. I sit back, stunned.

"David, why would you side with him? Ever? He sent you and Mia off with someone he knew wasn't stable" He ignores my question and keeps talking.

"He knew I was associated with you, he figured out you were Barney's daughter. He needs you alive to lure them here."

"Why?"

"Vengeance. Fear. He knows eventually he'll be uncovered, his whole weapons manufacturing operation. And he knows the Expendables will be sent in to kill him. He knows their track record. Their success to fail ratio is incredibly good. That, and he's been incredibly unstable since he found out Church lied about our deaths."

"David… you can't seriously be defending him… he's still the person behind all this chaos. I matter what-"

"Versus your father, the murderous lunatic mercenary?" he suddenly snaps. I see his pupils dilate and his skin flush with anger. I gulp. I recognize the symptoms.

"David, have they been drugging you?" I demand. He stands swiftly, getting defensive.

"That's not important-"

"Yes it is! Oh my god, how could it not be? Your own father is drugging you to turn you against me, against my family, and it's not important? And you still think what? That your dad is somehow salvageable? He sent you off with Church to have you killed! Not because he thought he was protecting you from the agency! It's a lost cause, David!" I snap. He throws something across the room in sudden drug induced rage.

"Why are you here? Who came after us, because it wasn't the Expendables! Who else is after us?!" he roars. Oh my god. Cal sent him down here to trick me into telling him. This wasn't the same David I knew. He was drugged, corrupted, and torn apart.

"This is his _fucking fault! He's fucking with you!_ I went through this same exact shit! I know how this feels! It's scary, and it's confusing, but you have to breath, David. The same way you taught me how. Breathe deep, try to calm down, see the truth. What kind of sane father would ever put his son through this?"

"What kind of sane father would ever put his daughter through this?" he gestures to me. But it's just an attempt to see whether or not Barney sent me in here. I smirk.

"I'm not that gullible," I snap at him. He narrows his eyes.

"You've been here a month. Look at you. You really think you can handle any more of this? Just tell me what I need to know so I can help you. I promise, as long as you're with me, they won't hurt you-"

"Please, they'll kill us both just to be rid of us," I mutter. David grits his teeth.

"That's not _true_!" he barks. I sigh. He was so far gone.

"I can handle whatever they throw at me if it means I can help you," I say through my teeth. And just briefly, I can see in David's one good eye, that he was still in there.

"They won't keep you alive much longer. If they figure out how determined you are, how durable you are-"

"David… I won't give up on you. You're in there somewhere. I never should have let you leave that rooftop, not as soon as Mia was gone…"

"Shut up!"

"I'm sorry. I truly am. I was a shitty friend to you, and I've failed you. But I'll fix this. I'll save you. But you have to help me-"

"I don't fucking need fixed," he snarls. Apprehension tingles up my spine. But I can see the hurt in his eyes. My David was still in there somewhere. This was Cal.

"I love you, David. I always will, so don't fucking think for a _second_ that I will _ever give up_ ," I implore deeply, looking right in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he becomes emotional and he storms out of the room.

 _This was all so much more fucked up than I thought._

* * *

Later on that night, I woke from a poor attempt at sleeping in fits of shivers. I was freezing, but that wasn't what woke me. I felt my sixth sense crawling across my skin. I whirl around, wincing at my sore muscles. David was just barely illuminated in the darkness, standing by the doorway.

"David?" I croak, exhausted and in pain. He looks at me.

"The guards work on a rotating schedule. Figure it out, Ross," he mutters and flicks a watch onto the floor in front of me. I grasp it and look up, ready to thank him a million times over, but he was gone. He risked himself, and who knows what else, to get this to me. He couldn't get me out. Not that it mattered, I didn't need his help escaping. Drummer knew when to come get me, I was on a clock. But this meant something else.

 _I knew he wasn't gone completely._


	47. Chapter 47

_Barney's POV_

"Are they already infiltrating the compound?" Christmas asks as I stare through the binoculars.

"They're down there. I don't know what they're waiting for. Maybe a signal or something. We're letting them go in first so we can see the body count. And hopefully they'll get taken out in the process," I mutter grimly. Christmas eyes me with wariness in his eyes.

"To be fair, Mira and Zane-"

"Were part of this. Sure, I won't aim for them, but if they get in the way," I warn. He sighs and turns back around.

Soon, the fighting begins as Drummers team tries to break into the compound. They were good, but they didn't have the numbers. They were gonna get creamed, and they were losing ground. Brenna's voice appears in my head.

 _You're not as dark as you think._

I groan, slightly amused that even in death she nags me. I turn depressed very quickly once I realize I'll never hear it again. I stand up swiftly.

"Barney?" Caesar asks.

"Come on. They need us," I growl, trekking down the hill. They follow.

"Why the change of heart?" Christmas hollers at me. I spin around.

"It's not what she would've wanted," I say quickly, and I don't miss the look of surprise on his face. And the smile he gets.

"Alright, let's do this!" he shouts, following me close.

We start on Drummers flank, and it takes everything inside me to not shoot him. But, we needed the man count for getting past this fortress. It was heavily armed, anti-tank devices, heavy weaponry, hundreds of men, and rolling hills to provide cover for any ambush. But thankfully, the latter worked in our favor as well.

Drummer listens in to his ear piece, and whirls around. They must've have eyes above in the trees or hills, watching his overhead. They alert him of our approach. He draws his gun and points it at me.

"Back off Barney!" he shouts. I grit my teeth, my finger resting on the trigger of my own rifle.

"Barney, remember what you said. Let's flank left, they won't expect the sudden tactic," Christmas reminds me. I nod and start to follow him around. Drummer calls my name.

"Barney, wait-"

"I'm going after him whether you like it or not. Then I'll decided whether you get to live as well," I growl. He shakes his head.

"No, you need to listen to me for just one second-"

"I don't have to listen to shit. She's dead. That's on you. And him. And if you get in the way, your fate will be the same as his," I spit and rush off to join my team. He shouts something else, but I don't hear him over the gunfire and explosions around us.

"Fuck!" Caesar shouts as we narrowly avoid a land mine. I grab Thorn's shoulder.

"This place is wired! Shut it down, we'll cover you," I point to the wiring alongside the concrete walls. It was risky, but with our cover, he should make it unharmed. He makes a run for the wall with our cover and Smilee goes with him. He begins to cut the rubber coating on the wires and rips them out, re-working them. After only a few seconds, the whole complex goes black and all I can hear are the gunshots from their men.

"Let's go, take out any thermals you see they aren't us!"

"But Barney, Mira and Zane-"

" _Any thermals!"_ I roar.

We begin to storm the compound, taking out anyone who gets in our path. I don't even question if it's Drummer's team or not. Anyone who gets in our path is instantly gunned down, with merciless vengeance. _Anyone here would have fired the bullet that killed her. They all had to go._

"Jesus Barney, we don't need to kill every bastard here. Some of them are retreating away, look," Christmas points to three men running off, and I point my rifle and shoot them as they run. They slump to the ground with a cold blast of air, the feeling of death. Christmas looks at me.

"No one survives," I hiss.

"What happened to it's not what she would want?" he calls after me. I turn briefly.

"She wouldn't want me to lead anyone to a slaughter. This way, they come to me. And it's what _I_ want," I bark at him and he silences.

"And what happened to target has to deserve it? You may say it's bullshit, but I've seen you over the years. You never kill someone who's running away," he snaps back at me.

"Any one of them could've killed her. They all go," I growl lowly, thankful for the COMs set. Otherwise he wouldn't have heard me over the bullets.

He looks shocked but we continue our assault into the compound.

"Smilee, get the corner! Gunnar, get his 6!" I bark out orders left and right, plowing through the complex with a force not to be reckoned with.

"Okay! Blueprints show the main complex, David wouldn't be in the holding cells, so he's probably in upper barracks-"

Just as I start to lay out the plans of attack, an explosion to my left sends us all flying backwards and onto the ground painfully. Ringing in my ears drowns out the firefight around me, my team was scattered around the main yard. I could tell I hit my head on the backward launch from the explosion. I was losing grip on my consciousness. _Dammit, Barney. This was avoidable. If you had taken more time to prepare, instead you let vengeance rule your head. Now your team's gonna pay the price for that mistake._

They're grabbed by their arms and hauled upwards, toward a door. Someone grabs my arms as well and hauls me up, but not before someone says something to me. I can't hear them over the ringing and when I don't respond, I get an elbow to my abdomen. I groan as he delivers another.

A man with neatly combed grey hair appears behind the man delivering elbows into my ribs, tells him to stop. I can barely hear his voice.

"...must be Barney Ross. I'm Cal Alhauser. Pleasure to have you with us," he grins mechanically, as if he's a robot, and delivers a sickening punch to the side of my head, effectively knocking me out.

"Barney…? ...Dad! What did you do to him…"

 _It's her voice. Brenna._

When I wake, the room is entirely bathed in fluorescent light. So much so that it hurts to open my eyes. I feel the sticky and familiar warmth of blood running down the side of my face. I groan painfully as I realize the trauma my body endured in the explosion. I try to move by my hands are tied behind me, to the chair I'm tied to. The room was sealed off, with no windows. But it was surprisingly clean.

"Dad, are you okay?" I hear a voice ask. It's muffled, and far away. I try to blink open but light was in my face. The voice was so familiar, so achingly familiar, that my heart started to pound. Despite the light, I forced my eyes open.

I couldn't believe my eyes. I blink several times to make sure I'm awake. But this was all too real. She was here. _She was alive._

"Brenna?" I rasp. She frowns.

"You sound surprised," she mutters. She was also tied to a chair in front of me, we were facing each other. When I look at her face more clearly, she looks like hell. She's lost a significant amount of weight, she had burns and scars all over her body. The left side of her face was severely smashed in, bruised, and bloodied. Her eyes both were worn and tired. Her limbs, from what I could see, were caked over in blood and terrible burns. Probably some of the worst burns I've seen, searing into her flesh and muscle.

 _Good god. She's been here for three months, enduring torture._

"Brenna… how are you alive?" I breathe. She sits up straighter, confused.

"Alive? I was never dead," she confirms my suspicion that she's been here for months.

"And you've been here…?" I ask. She just gets more confused.

"Yes. Why else are you here? I'm assuming you found out from Drummer-"

"He and I had a misunderstanding. When we caught your team back in Kazakhstan, we thought he'd come back for David. But it didn't make sense. You never would have left David behind all those months ago, not a chance. So I assumed you were dead. And then I accused Drummer on the phone for lying to me about your death and he thought I was referring to your… incarceration. Fucking Christ, kid, what the fuck were you thinking?" I demand, too angry to allow myself to be happy she's alive. If I let myself have two seconds of relief, for all I know, she'll be gone again. And these last few days have been hell on earth. Coming from me, that's saying something.

"So why did you really come back here, if it wasn't to get me out?" she demands suspiciously. I grit my teeth and she growls lowly. "You came here to kill him!? If you thought I was dead, why would you kill the person I was trying to save? That would make it so I died in vain!" she screams at me, her voice cracking. My eyes snap to hers.

"If you would have just fucking let me _help_ you all those months ago, _you wouldn't be here_!" God, I was pissed off at her, but being angry was better than being mournful. I was glad to be screaming at her right now.

"You're right! And David would be dead because you never fucking _listen_ to a _goddamn word_ I say!" she roars.

"You didn't have to go off on your own!"

"You weren't gonna let up. Ever. The only way to show you I meant business was to walk away and do this on my own."

"So you betray my trust, the Expendables? Thorn's?!" I snap at her. Her eyes close painfully when I say his name, and I realize instantly she's too weak for this right now. _Hell, she was damn well close to keeling over._

"Brenna-" I go to apologize but a noise interrupts me.

A door opens behind me and she stiffens when she sees who enters.

"So much yelling and hostility in here, phew! What's with all the family drama?" someone's asks.

"Well! I've never had family come pay us a visit! The infamous father-daughter duo! I should've known he'd send you in here," a man says. She glares at him with a hatred burning so brightly that it shocks me.

"For the millionth time. He did not send me in here!" she snaps menacingly. He walks around the chair and I see him for the first time. He had neatly combed hair and a nice suit, not the kind of person I would expect to be behind this kind of thing. _So this is who David was working for._

"Apologies, Mr. Ross. The name is Cal. Cal Alhauser."

 _Alhauser…? Fuck._

"So. David lied to us about his dead parents. Shocking," I mutter, and look at Brenna. But I couldn't stay mad, not while she looked how she looked. She was in so much pain, I could tell. She was putting on a good show, especially while Cal was in the room. But she was so, so tired. _I'll get you out of here, kid. I promise,_ I pledge silently.

"Not quite! He didn't know I was alive until about a year ago. Incidentally, around the same time Brenna helped him escape from my dear old friend Church's," he explains.

Suddenly, one massive jigsaw piece sets in and I realize everything. Why it's taken so long to dismantle Church's web, why David was coerced into this, how this all started.

"I can see by the look on your face that you understand. It's a pity. I release Church from jail, and he imprisons my children because he thinks they're a loose end. I suppose I have your daughter to thank for his death."

"Bullshit! You sent Church after them to kill them, you didn't want the loose ends! And Church kept them alive because they were the perfect age group for his little experiments!"

Cal smirks, looking at me.

"She's quite clever, your daughter. It's a little annoying that Church didn't just kill them. At least he managed to dispose of Mia," he spits her name and Brenna jerks her hands forward, attempting to free her bonds. And I can tell it's because she wants nothing more than to bring merciless death to Cal.

"It was always you. We thought we cut the tree, and we were waiting for the roots to dry up. But it was always you. I don't understand… don't you care for David? Why is he here?" I demand. After all, it is his son.

"Oh, I really couldn't tell you. At first, he believed he could save me. Bring me back from all this, you know? He was so fucked after Mia's death, it was easy to give him false hope. So I figured I'd continue what Church started with the whole brainwashing practice. It didn't work with Brenna because she had a purpose. She had hope, and frankly, still does. So that makes her unqualified for a test subject. Unfortunately for David, it made him an easy one. And... well, he's so drugged up and manipulated that he's sort of... gone," he explains. Brenna's teeth grit together as she closes her eyes in rage.

"Why?" I demand.

"Because I needed a healthier test subject. That, and Brenna was a proven case that the drug didn't work on her. Not that is mattered, we still had our fun. Too bad we couldn't document her in test trials though" he looks at her with disdain and it makes my blood boil.

"And you're okay with doing this to your own son?"

"Oh my. You think I have the capacity for remorse, guilt, empathy? You're sorely mistaken. Brenna learned that lesson quickly," he sneers and my boiling blood continues to pump through my veins quicker.

"Don't get me wrong. David's attempts to change me, to 'help me' were touching. But not my cup of tea. I never wanted a family really. But you know how that goes. You get some hot piece of ass and the next thing you know, you're stuck with that," he gestures to Brenna. Her jaw clenches, and I'm shocked to see that it's getting to her so much. It's never been true. She knows I care about her mother… ah, but she doesn't know if I thought of her as a mistake. Of course she wasn't… this must be one of her fears.

"That's not true. At least in my case," I tell him, and Brenna looks at me. For the first time, her eyes soften and she smiles. Cal looks at the two of us.

"Well isn't that touching! I suppose you're probably a little upset about her current condition. She tolerates pain extremely well, it's fascinating," he stares at my daughter in lunatic's wonder, picking up a blow torch and a knife. He begins to heat the knife. I sit up straighter and pull at my restraints, understanding now why we were sitting like this.

"Don't fucking touch her!" I snap. Cal turns to me with the blow torch, a crazy look in his eyes.

"Would you rather it be you?" he asks.

"Of course!" I spat at him, and Brenna shakes her head.

"What? Dad, no! You-"

"Easy, now, Brenna. No need to worry. I'm going to let you choose. You, or him?"

"Brenna, please. You obviously can't take much more of whatever they've been doing to you. Please. Let me do this, let me _help_ you," I implore her, begging once more to allow me to assist her. I can't bear to watch this if she picks herself.

"Dad, I can't watch you get tortured. I can't," she chokes, fear clouding her usually vibrant green eyes. _God. Even now, her fear sends my head racing. I hated it._

"And you think I want to watch your pain? You think that's fair to me, when I'm in much better shape than you are anyway?" I demand.

"I can handle pain! I can't handle watching you suffer," she whispers lowly. _Oh kid, if only you knew how much worse it'll be if I'm the one watching you suffer._

"I'm tired of waiting!" Cal says, turning toward her with the molten hot knife. He raises his hand, ready to stab her in the shoulders.

"Stop! Brenna, tell him to do this to me-"

But it's too late. Her drives the knife into her arm and surprisingly she doesn't scream. But I still cringe as the smell of her burning flesh enters the air. Her eyes screw shut and her nostrils flare as the sound of sizzling flesh fills the room. She twists away from the knife, squirming at the pain that sears into her skin. It was horrifying to watch.

"Dammit Cal! Stop it! Why the hell are you doing this?" I roar.

"I told Church to do away with you! I told him it wasn't going to work, that mercenaries were too many loose ends! He wouldn't listen to me. And now you've fucked with my operation for the last time. So I'm going to kill her, make you watch, and then kill you!" he explains.

"Drummer said you wanted to do away with mercenary usage for agency purposes, but he didn't say you were this vindictive. He didn't mention you wanted them dead," Brenna spits, trying to remain conscious through the pain she was experiencing.

"Of course, I didn't exactly broadcast my hatred for them. Why would I? I'm an agency official. Emotions aren't a luxury we can afford," he twists the knife deeper in her arm, and she squeezes her eyes shut.

"Brenna. Please. Just let me do this for you," I beg. She shakes her head, her eyes still screwed shut. Cal rips the knife from her arm, sighing. Brenna takes a staggering breath, as if she's breathing for the first time in her life. She chokes on the air and coughs.

"You're boring to torture after a while. It's fascinating that you tolerate it so well, but it's no fun when they don't scream. You may know the feeling," he regards me.

"I'm not as fucking sick as you," I seethe.

"Mm, I'm not sure sure about that. I saw how you laid out my men on the way in. No survivors. Men who ran away for their lives. No mercy. It's a wonder you care so much for her," he explains. Brenna looks at me, and I see deep in her eyes that she didn't like hearing about my dark moments. I didn't like it.

"Anyway! I've grown bored, once again. Bring it in!" he shouts. A doctor carrying a syringe comes in, tapping the glass for bubbles. Brenna's whole demeanor changes. She cringes away from the needle, fear exploding into her body. Her eyes never leave the needle, as paralyzing horror sets deep within the darkness of her dilated pupils. The doctor comes over to her. _Fuck. No._

"Don't fucking inject that shit in her, or so help me god, I'll kill you and everyone you've ever loved. I'll find out too, don't test me," I warn the doctor. He looks at Cal, who only nods at him. Brenna squirms away from the needle but the doctor stabs it into her neck.

"This is a… new concoction, Brenna. You may experience some discomfort," Cal explains, and the doctor injects the drug. She takes a sharp intake a breath, and for a moment everyone is silent. Then she begins to convulse in her chair, screaming out in pain. The sound is traumatizing, it sends my skin crawling. They cut her bonds and she crumples to her hands and knees. She clutches her stomach suddenly, screaming out again and falling onto her back. She thrashes around, her muscles convulsing as she tries to breathe.

"I'll let you two have some alone time," Cal says. He cuts my bonds, but by the time I can turn around to rip his limbs off, he's gone. Not that it was my top priority. I launch out of my chair, my legs protesting from their injuries, and fall beside Brenna.

"Brenna. Hey. Hey, listen to me. It's gonna be okay. Alright? You'll be okay," I tell her over and over again as she writhes around on the ground, trying not to scream. _Fuck, this was bad._ It was my first insight to how bad this drug was, how bad it was when she was with Church. But this was obviously worse. And if Brenna was very obviously in pain, then this was _really_ bad.

"The fire! Put out the fire!" she screams, pain consuming her. It was tormenting, to see her suffer.

"Brenna, there's no fire. There's no fire. Focus. Breathe," I wrestle her wrists down, but she's clutching her abdomen like her internal organs are being shredded from the inside out.

"It burns. It's burning. I can't breathe. Please," she cries, tears leaking from her eyes. I clutch the side of her face as she stares straight at the ceiling, agony clear on her facial features.

"Brenna. You can breathe. Listen to my voice. It's going to be fine. You can't fear it. You can't fear this pain, that's what makes it hurt more. Trust me," I implore her using as soft of a voice as I can manage. She finally looks at me, shaking her head. I can see defeat in her eyes, she was giving in.

"Kill me," she whispers, begging for the pain to be over. Her plea sends my emotions over the edge. I grip her hand and pull her torso up to mine, clutching her as she rode out the pain.

"Never. You're going to live. You always will. As long as I'm here, you'll always be safe. I swear to you, Brenna, I'll never make you feel alone ever again. Just don't give up," I rasp weakly, and just barely, I can feel her hand softly close around mine. She was still convulsing in pain. But if she was going to finish riding this out, she'd do it right here in my arms.

"Did I mention that this is a lethal dose? It's killed almost everyone it's been in. It induces fear along with the usual drug affects. Fascinating, isn't it? In any case, of all people, she should survive it. She has a tolerance to it after all these months. However… she _is_ very weak. Hm, time will tell. I'll be back to check on you in a bit. I've got to see about what to do with your mongrels," Cal growls over some kind of PA system.

"Pray I never get my hands on you," I say in a monotone voice. There's no answer, but I know my threat comes across nevertheless.

 _I'll shred every last person that hurt her._


	48. Chapter 48

_Brenna's POV_

I woke up with a shiver, my eyes flying open. I launch up from the ground, looking all around me I'm confusion. I cry out in pain, clutching my ribs.

"Hey, you're okay. Christ, kid," Barney soothes, worry wrinkling his exhausted face. We were back in our cell, in the dark. I try to hoist myself up but my muscles protest in agony. I groan and go to fall back on the ground, but Barney stands swiftly to catch me.

"Where's… where's your team?" I rasp, as he clutches my shoulder to keep me from falling. _Is Thorn safe?_

"I have no clue. I was hoping I could ask you that, but well, then Cal came and…"

"Yeah," I interrupt coldly. Thorn may never forgive me, but he's one of the many reasons that the last three months have been bearable. I'll never forgive myself if he got hurt because of me.

"Brenna… have you been enduring this the whole time?" he asks me. I sigh, saying nothing.

"Dad, I don't wanna-"

"Why didn't you just talk to me?" he asks me for the millionth time, but this time, he's not yelling at me. Instead, he looks haunted. I slide back to the floor, and he sits across from me.

"Would you have honestly listened to me?" I ask, raising a brow. He frowns.

"I can't say. If you tried hard enough… maybe."

"Tried hard enough? You're kidding me, right?! You think I would go off on my own, endure months of torture, because I had another option? You weren't gonna listen. You were gonna kill him. And don't lie- you still are," I accuse. He rubs his face with his hand, brows furrowing in deep thought.

"I would've listened if I knew this would be the alternative."

"You had no way of knowing. This was never the plan. Drummer hadn't anticipated Cal's involvement. My decision- because it was _my_ decision- was last minute. I never planned this," I tell him, but he looks at me in disbelief.

"You should've let Drummer tell me then."

"Well, he wasn't supposed to make you think I was dead-"

"He didn't. I told you. It was a misunderstanding."

Silence ensues as I feel his eyes on me. My wounds were sort of cleaned up, I felt cleaner anyway. He must've been caring for them while I was out. And I can tell he's staring at them right now.

"Is this all worth it, Brenna? To save one person?"

I grit my teeth.

"To save one _innocent_ person, yes."

"He's hardly innocent."

"And he's hardly guilty, and you know it."

"Fine, but for _one person_ -"

"Who saved my life. Who kept me human, who was there when I needed him to be, who kept me sane. I owe him everything. Him and Mira. He means plenty to her and Zane. And I owe them the same debt. They need David, he's been a part of their lives far longer than he's been in mine. I can't just walk away. Because then I'd lose all of them. They'd never forgive me. And this is all partially my fault. He lost all hope, all will to live, when Mia died-"

"You still blame yourself for that? Brenna, it wasn't you. Church was going to kill her anyway," he explains to me, trying to take my hand. But I pull away, shaking my head. I swallow loudly.

"I can't. If I hadn't been in his life, Mia would still be here. You provoked Church, and you wouldn't have been there if I wasn't."

"There was no way to avoid that."

"Doesn't matter. It happened. And I can't take it back. And now David is lost, and Zane and Mira may not blame me, but if I didn't try to save him with every single breath I can manage, they would."

"Brenna, they would _never_ blame you. But David isn't… he's never gonna be the same. Even if you can save him."

"Save him? From this place, or you?" I demand. Barney narrows his eyes.

"You're life is better without him. He endangers you."

"And you don't?" I snap, and I can see the hurt in his eyes as I say it.

"I'm _always_ on your side. Even when it doesn't seem like it. But David's allegiance will always be murky."

"While Cal is alive," I finish for him, because he's wrong. Barney sighs, agreeing with me on that regard. It grows silent again.

"If we get out of here… will you still go try to save him?" he asks suddenly. I raise my head.

"Yes," I declare with no hesitations. He nods.

"I can't let you do that."

"You don't have a choice," I snap. He smirks, though it's bittersweet.

"I know."

"So what was the point of that? A threat?" I demand. He shakes his head.

"No. I'm just letting you know… we're still against each other. I can't hesitate if the time comes-"

"Like you didn't hesitate to gun down those men who were attempting to run for their lives?" I snap. His lips thin and his jaw locks.

"I told you. What I do is never altruistic. And this is why I never wanted you on a job with me. Because now you've seen the horrors I'm capable of. And now you're opinion of me has changed," he says, regret clear in his voice.

"My opinion? You're a goddamn mercenary. Why are you so concerned about _my_ opinion?" I snort in disbelief. Barney looks at me like I'm an idiot.

"Because I'm also your _father._ And a daughter should never have to hear about any of the shit I've done."

"Does it matter at this point? Look at where we are," I mutter. He scoffs in agreement.

"Still, I know it bothered you."

"You don't know anything," I say under my breath.

"Yes I do. I know it bothered you, not because you give a shit about my occupation. But because you don't believe I'm as dark as so many people say," he says, and he's so on the mark that I can't stop myself from being offended.

"Please. You don't know me as well as you think," I growl, closing my eyes and leaning my head back to get some rest. It's quiet again. For a long time. So long I think he's gone to sleep, or ignoring me because I finally pissed him off enough. But finally, he speaks up.

"You're wrong. You're favorite snack is peanut butter and bananas, but only reduced fat peanut butter because you hate how oily regular peanut butter is. But you can't resist barbeque kettle chips either. Your favorite food is spicy chicken chili but you love tacos more than you love most people. You wear black pretty much every day but your favorite color is actually green, because you love rainforests. You've always wanted to go see one. You wanted to go to school to be an artist and you love to draw, but I haven't seen you pick up a sketchbook since you thought I was dead. It's bothered me ever since. You hate the cold but somehow thoroughly enjoy thunderstorms and rain. But hurricanes scare the living shit out of you.

You think about your mom all the time and say a small prayer every night, or at least I think you do, because she's always who you talk about in your sleep. You hate how you haven't been to her grave enough in the last year or so. Aiden is the center of your world and you're terrified of never seeing him grow up. You want kids, but you're terrified of being a terrible mother. Partially due to the fact that both of your parents failed you growing up- I left you and your mother died. You don't have good role models so you're worried you'd be the same to your kids. You don't like to admit it, but the scars you've gained from all your injuries for the last year or so have severely affected your confidence. You hate crying because it makes you feel weak, especially in front of me. Which I hate. Because I love seeing all the ways you're still human, all the ways you aren't me. Even though I hate it when you cry. You also hate laughing too hard because you're self conscious of your laugh. But I wish I heard it more. So no, you're absolutely wrong. I know you better than I know anyone, better than I know myself," he says quietly. My eyes snap open and I stare at him in disbelief.

"H-how-"

"I paid attention. Because I gave a shit," he sighs, looking away from me.

"Then why didn't you say anything?" I ask. He looks at me once more, but his eyes are devoid of feeling.

"Would it have made a difference?" he asks, quoting me from earlier. I think for second, and come to a conclusion in my mind. The answer was no, and he sees that on my face. "Yea, that's what I thought."

"It only would've made it harder, but I still would have gone," I mutter. He rubs his face in annoyance but he looks like he's aged a hundred years since the torture room. I look at him warily.

"Are you okay?" I ask. He barks out a bitter laugh, and it's so loud that it makes me jump.

"Why the fuck would you ask that, you know what the answer is."

"Because I wasn't sure if Cal had done something to you after I passed out," I say defensively. He looks at me as if I'm an idiot, and clenches his fist.

"Brenna, I love ya kid, but sometimes I swear you're the biggest moron on the planet," he chuckles, shaking his head in exasperation. I ignore the safe feeling I get when he says he still loves me, I wouldn't have blamed him if he hated me.

"I'm honestly still surprised you can say that. I thought you would hate me," I breathe a sigh of relief. Barney looks at me, shocked and wide-eyed now.

"Is that what this is about?" he asks, and I look away. He grasps my shoulders and spins me toward him, "Brenna, I look like shit because I just had to hear my daughter's screams of pain. You _begged_ me to kill you. I look like shit because I have to live with the fact that you endured three months of this because you felt you could no longer reason with me, your own father. And then I'm pissed the fuck off at you, and the choices you made, all for one person. So yes, Cal did do something to me. He forced me to watch my worst nightmare in the flesh. And now that'll haunt me for years to come," he admits quietly, going into brooding mode. I look away, locking my jaw. I lean back against the cold grimy cell wall, closing my eyes. _I should've just let Wiley kill me._

 _Barney's POV_

My eyes didn't leave her as she slept. Every single move, every twitch, every breath made my heart sputter. Because she honestly looked like shit. And after hearing her screams, seeing her tortured, I wasn't in a very good place. The piercing sounds of her pain would haunt me for years to come, I could already tell. I closed my eyes painfully, trying not to blame myself for all of this. But it was complicated. She needed me to save her life but by saving her life, I've only made it worse.

Suddenly, the doors open to the chamber and David walks through. I stand swiftly to my feet and step in front of Brenna protectively, though she was still sound asleep.

"So it's true. You are here," David spits. I glare at him and cock my head to the side.

"I'm guessing your visit will be brief, so if I'm considering that, lets not waste time. Your dad is using you, he hates you, he told me himself."

David snorts.

"You would say that. And in any case, I'm aware of what he's doing. I have a plan. Is that how you managed to manipulate Brenna? Because from what I hear, she's hard to crack. So I'd be surprised," he gloats. I laugh bitterly. Yes, his plan was to take this torture to prove to his father that he wasn't

"Yes, _she's_ the one being manipulated. Not you. Fucking moron," I chuckle sarcastically, without humor. David glares at me, approaching the bars. But he's still too far away for me to grab.

"She seems to think you're pure as gold. So yes, she's manipulated," he hisses. I sigh, because he had a point.

"She's always seem the best in everyone, otherwise she wouldn't be here. Enduring three months of horrifying torture to save you. And you can't even be grateful," I snap at him quietly. I can see in his demeanor that he did care- in fact, he was absolutely ashamed and behind ridden with guilt. It briefly shocks me.

"I tried to help her. I gave her a watch. But as it turns out, she didn't need it. And now I can't get her out because then I'd be helping you," he spits out the last word hatefully and I whistle.

"Man, you really hate me. You can't save your closest friend, the woman literally taking beatings for you, and I wasn't even the one that killed your sister. Church did, who was a front for the person you call dad. This drug they got in you just be extremely powerful," I say, and fury ignites in his eyes.

"Don't fucking mention her, you don't deserve-"

"I promise, when I get out of here, I'll make you suffer. Every moment of pain Brenna ever felt. Every scream, every drop of blood spilt that she took for you. It'll rain down on you like hell itself. You think you know pain. You'll _beg_ for something as sweet as pain when I get my hands on you," I threaten lowly. He remains stoic.

"She'll never forgive you," he tried to threaten back. I look at her sleeping face.

"She doesn't have to. She's safer with you gone, and I'll gladly pull the trigger if it means she's safe again. Even if it means never seeing her again," I say, still looking down at her. I don't see him go, but I hear door shut once more. The door slamming shut causes Brenna to wake up in a panic.

"Hey, it's okay," I put a hand on her shoulder and she winces. There wasn't a spot on her body that wasn't injured or causing her pain.

"What was that?" she croaks, looking around.

"Just one of the guards checking on us," I sit next to her as she shifts to sit up on her own. She claws at the wall and eventually gets herself into a sitting position, but she's wheezing.

"You good?" I ask. She nods, putting her head in one hand and the the hand rubbing her knee. "You don't have to do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend to be fine. You're not. And it's okay," I tell her. Her jaw tenses and she leans back, ignoring me.

"Yeah, well. Accepting it doesn't make it any easier," she croaks, her eyes still shut. I snort.

"Ain't that the fucking truth," I mutter. She peaks an eye open, smirking at me.

"I'm sorry. You do know me well. I don't know why I said that," she apologizes. I give her a look.

"That's the only thing you're apologizing for?"

"It's the only thing I'm _going_ to apologize for. I mean, I could say I'm sorry, but you wouldn't believe me. And you shouldn't, because I wouldn't mean it," she says honestly. I try to be annoyed, to be angry, but I couldn't hide the truth anymore.

"We're on opposing sides… but I actually understand why you're doing this. Because I'd be in your shoes right now if the roles were reversed," I say, thinking of Christmas. If I had to endure what she's put been through to save a friend, I would to. And admittedly, I was worried like hell for them.

"Thank you," she says quietly, staring off into the distance. A small amount of peace rests between us.

"But you'll still kill him?" she asks. I frown and she gets her answer. She laughs bitterly, shaking her head.

"I asked you once if you could trust me. And you said yes," she states to open air. I turn toward her, waiting for her to finish. She shifts uncomfortably.

"And?"

"When I left, I felt horrible. I wanted to come back home every second. I betrayed your trust and nothing felt worse," she continues, frowning. Her eyes line with tears, and it stirs unwelcome feelings inside me.

"It's okay-"

"But come to find out, I never had your trust," she says, finally looking at me with eyes filled with what can only be described at wounded, and then continues, "Well… at least now I know."

"Brenna-"

I'm cut off by the sound of gunshots. Brenna hears them too and snaps to her feet, as best she can anyway.

"Yours?" I ask her. She smirks.

"Right on schedule," she grins, pointing to a black watch strapped to her wrist. Mira, Zane, Trench, Yang, and Drummer bust down the door moments later, and a huge grin erupts on her face. But when they see what condition she's in, they halt. Drummer takes a staggering step back.

"Jesus, kid," he sighs. Trench shoots the lock and the doors slide open. Mira shoots in and grasps Brenna in a tight hug. She hisses in pain and Mira releases her.

"I'm sorry, I just-"

The alarm system blares, alerting the complex of their entry. Drummer looks around, confused.

"This isn't us, we were clean coming in. The whole complex security is down still from whatever Thorn did to it," Drummer informs us. I grin. I'm guessing my team had something to do with this.

"Whatever it is, it's unpredicted. Did you bring it?" Brenna asks. Drummer nods, though he looks unhappy about whatever he's about to do.

"There are side effects-"

"Just do it," Brenna interrupts. Trench takes a huge needle out of his bag and Brenna props her leg up on the bars of the prison door. I suddenly understand what that is.

"Brenna, no!" I yell at her, but Trench stabs the large needle into her leg. It was an adrenaline shot, and it takes but a second to kick in. She doesn't perk up, her muscles are still stiff and she's in pain, but the shot causes her blood to pound faster through her veins. She's able to ignore it and do what she needs to do, I would know. I've been in her shoes before. Zane hands her a rifle and she takes it gladly, following them out of the cell. Just as they head out, my team runs in, and they run into each other. Rifles go up all the way around the room.

 _Shit._


	49. Chapter 49

_Brenna's POV_

"Brenna?" Lee asks, lowering his rifle in disbelief. I give him a guilty smile.

"To be fair, I never told Drummer to say I was dead, it was a misunderstanding-"

"Are you _fucking_ kidding me?!" Thorn roars upon seeing me. His eyes are borderline full of hatred. He looks like shit too, like he hasn't slept in years. And his tone is so sharp that I know he won't forgive me easily- if at all.

"Hi Thorn," I mutter, and his glare intensifies.

"Hi? That's all you can say? Is hi? I thought you were _dead!_ You ran off to help someone who's put you through this-"

"He didn't put me through this!" I interrupt with a tone of equal vehement. It surprises everyone in the room. I close my eyes in fury.

"Do I _fucking_ look like I'm in the mood to start pointing fingers?" I hiss through my teeth. He opens his mouth to continue arguing, but Barney cuts him off.

"Enough! Brenna, you can't expect us to let you and your team leave. We came here to do one thing and we're going to do it. Now, you're outnumbered. By a lot. Be smart about this," he approaches me gently, but Lee hands him his rifle. I narrow my eyes. My team stands closer to me, with Trench, Yang, and Drummer stepping in front of Mira, Zane and I.

"We came here to do one thing as well, Barney," Drummer warns. I see something twirling in his hands, and I see him toss it behind him. It's clearly directed to me, so I catch it swiftly. No one sees. I take a quick peak and my heart sinks. A tranquilizer. I know his plan.

"Guys, stop. I won't fight anyone that I don't have to," I tell the room.

"Then come with us. We'll get you out, you don't even have to be in the room," Barney pleads as he approaches my side. My heart races as I arm the tranquilizer in my hand. I gulp, and nod slightly. Barney's looks of surprise and relief doesn't last long, because as soon as he lowers his rifle, I stab him in the neck with the tranq.

"What the hell?" he yells, but he falls to his knees. Lee races to his side.

"Have you completely gone mental?" he looks at me, bewildered. But I can tell he's secretly pleased to see me.

"Relax. It'll keep him on his ass for twenty minutes. Unless you want him dead, I advise that you stick with him until he comes out of it," Zane tells everyone, and my team starts to follow out. I hesitate but follow suit.

"Don't… trust him… Brenna," I hear Barney's groggy voice say as I leave the room. No one stops me, and they could if they wanted to. But me being Barney's daughter will always complicate things.

"Brenna, were you able to get anything on the complex?" Mira asks, likely expecting another hand-scratched map. I grimace as we fight our way to where Drummer thinks David is. We'd been in firefight for at least twenty minutes, long enough for Barney to snap out of it. He'll hear the shots and find another way around if we don't clear these corridors soon.

"No. I was drugged when I was taken out and rendered unconscious every time I went back. Not to mention the pain was… excruciating," I nearly shiver and Drummer sends me a look of regret over the sprays of bullets that go over our head. Thank god for COMs sets and Kevlar, of which the team has so graciously brought my own.

"I never should've let you go in here alone," he mutters but we all hear him. I take out someone on his 3 and my 6.

"Now's not the time to share regrets. Barney is probably up by now and finding another way around. We've gotta get through this!" I yell over the sound of Mira's grenade she throws. It's a good throw, but more men just keep coming like an ant farm.

"Not all of us can make this, Brenna!" Yang shouts, giving Drummer a nod. Drummer reluctantly shakes his head.

"I can't leave her again!" he shouts. I'm surprised at the level of concern he has for me.

"No, he's right. We could cover her, if we sped run it. But we'd have to hold down the corridor here if you expect to get to his area of the complex," Trench agrees.

"If we're doing this, I'm going with her. No question. Cal could be lurking anywhere," Drummer says. Everyone exchanges a look, and I can tell we're in agreeance. I make eye contact with the other four members of my team, nodding at them.

"Be safe," I warn them, especially to Mira and Zane.

"Get him back, Brenna," Mira says softly. I nod and turn to join Drummers side as we run in the opposite direction. My team was providing enough of a diversion, I should be able to make it to David with Drummer by my side.

"You lead the way, boss," I tell him, and he scoffs.

"Yeah, no, sorry. This is still your mission, kid. You're the one that put herself here for three months. You look like shit," he teases, and I actually have the heart to laugh. It felt good.

As we make our way through the complex, we have to approach every corner with stealth. No fired weapons.

"Do you think they've got eyes on us?" I ask.

"Hard to say, Thorn really shut this place down. I doubt they have any-"

"Not them. Barney," I whisper as we creep down a dark hall.

"One way to find out. The living quarters are through there. That's where David will be. I've got to cover this door to make sure no one follows you in. You're on your own from here, kid. No matter what, do what you have to do and don't hesitate," he grasps my shoulder and holds the door open for me. He positions himself outside the door, and as it shuts he turns to look at me one last time. And then it shuts.

I whirl around, rifle to my shoulder firmly. I walk with feathered steps down the eerily quiet and dark hallways. I don't see nor hear any sign of a fight, but Barney and his team were more seasoned at being stealthy. But regardless, I was on my own. For the first time, there was no one covering my six and I had to watch out for myself. The adrenaline shot coursing through my veins was no longer necessary, my heart was pumping double time.

Each room I opened silently was empty and dark. It was weird, but the complex was under attack. I had no doubt that these were soldiers living quarters. Suddenly, I see a light framing a door at the end of a hallway. I walk quickly to the end and take cover on the side of the door. Then I knock. No response. I twist the doorknob, tiptoeing in. But there was no one inside. Just a bed, an end table, and a desk. And on the desk, a note. My heart sinks.

 _Looks like he beat you here. If you want to see him alive one last time, come to the main hangar. Two rights and a left down the long hallway. And come alone._

 _Cal_

"Fuck!" I hiss, running my hands through my hair. Barney did beat me here, of course he did. Just my luck. And they were waiting for me.

 _Dammit, this was all my fault. He wanted me. Barney just couldn't leave well enough alone and he had to come 'avenge me'. This was my fucking fault._

I couldn't let him die. I wouldn't. So much shit had happened, so much we'd gone through together in the last year and a half. If there was anyone that deserved to live, it was him. Because he was right, it did bother me. Because he had the biggest heart of anyone I knew. He wasn't dark and cold as he claimed to be. He learned to be a father to a terrible daughter. And he learned quick. I owe him my life, not just for that, but for all the times he's saved mine.

I turn swiftly and rush out the door, and ignoring every pin and needle sensation in my body, take off in a full sprint down the halls.

I pause outside the double doors to the main hangar. _These next sixty seconds were probably my last._

Then I opened the doors.

 _Barney's POV_

She comes charging in, winded and out of breath. She looked even more like shit, probably exhausted from the physics ramifications of combat and torture weighing down on her. The adrenaline shot did nothing for pain.

But I was furious. With Cal in here, her and her team had plenty of time to make a run for it. Cal knew she'd try to come rescue me. She should've ran. I yanked on my bonds, but the man holding them tightly cocked a gun to my head. I grit my teeth in annoyance.

"Brenna, you _fucking moron!_ " I scream at her. She looks at me with only an apologetic smile. My team was bound and gagged, I was the only one with the pleasure of speech.

"Ah, Brenna! How lovely of you to join us!" Cal says, pointing a pistol at her. She halts in her tracks.

"Put your weapon on the ground, now," a man tells her, but she doesn't put it down. _Good girl._

He grabs her by the hair and yanks the rifle from her grasp. He kicks her onto her knees.

"Now that you're here, I wanted to show you a small tidbit of video footage I gathered," Cal sneers at her. He presses a button on a remote and a projection pops up on the empty concrete wall behind us. Then the video begins to play, and my heart sinks into my stomach with dread.

It was of me, fighting my way into the complex however many days ago. It was one specific moment, a moment I remembered well. I had a man cornered, he put his hands in the air. He begged for mercy. I ordered him to put his weapons down. And when he did, I shot him point blank. In cold blood. I looked at Brenna's face after I shot him, and I don't mistake the mortified look in her eyes that would haunt me for years to come. _She's seen the monster._

Another video pops up. Christmas and I arguing. He gestures to three men running for their lives, and I gunned them down as they ran.

"And that's just from a few hours! Can you imagine a lifetime? So before you go and pick up your stones, you may want to look toward your own father and decide who the real monster is," he hisses with pure unadulterated rage.

"He's not a monster," she chokes defensively, probably in shock from seeing my merciless nature.

"Of course he is! That's his job, the whole lot of them! I warned people for years that mercenaries were loose ends. They're reckless, unchained, monsters!"

"God, who pissed in your Cheerios? You realize you're the exact thing your bitching about, right?" Brenna snaps, annoyed. Her attitude wasn't welcome right now, but it was highly amusing. Even if I was pissed off at her for a whole list of reasons now, most recently tranqing me.

"Easy, girl. I never said I wasn't those things. You want to know the truth? Why I really hate mercs?" he asks. She gestured around her, signaling she's obviously got nowhere else to be. I clear my throat to warn her of her worsening attitude, and how it wouldn't help the situation. She glares at me, her mouth twitching in annoyance. A trait I've been told often enough we both share.

"Years ago, when I was a young agent, I worked closely with an operations officer. Not Church or Drummer, this was long before they came along. Though it's sad how often that position needs filled… anyway! I was sent on a mission to retrieve United States POW's from a shit show in Iraq. Standard stuff, but usually in rescue operations back then, it was expected that we'd lose someone. The operations officer in charge of the mission wanted to reduce casualties. So he hired mercenaries to have our backs. It was under the radar, should've been no problems. We start the mission, everything goes fine. Then, as we reach the POW's chambers after _nine fucking hours_ of firefight, they shoot our rescuees in the face. And then they turn and shoot my men. All of them. Including me. Turns out, they were hired out from under us to kill them. Mercenaries have no loyalty, have no chains. There's a reason I warn you, Brenna, to never have loyalty. It'll just break you in the end. But I survived. Barely. The operations officer was removed from duty after that shit show and I was allowed to keep my job. But I removed my loyalty to the agency, starting doing business on the side. Kind of like what Drummer is doing now. Sure, I guess I went dark. But so did Church. And so will Drummer. But I'll never forget the mercs that killed my team and those defenseless and starving prisoners…" he trails off, pressing a button on his remote. A body cam, placed on what I'm assuming his Kevlar vest, shows me putting four bullets into four POW's and turning to shoot him. The lens goes dead. Apprehension and horror tingle across my skin. This was a revenge plot against me, for so many reasons. And now, Brenna was entirely exposed to what I've done. Her face, her beautiful face though bruised and blooded, is shocked and horrified as she attempts to process what she's seen. I shake my head. I didn't want to see this happen. I didn't want to watch her eyes as she decided I wasn't anything but a monster. But she had it all wrong. Those POW's were Trojan horses, ready to be brought back to the US to kill innocent lives in terrorist bombings. They weren't soldiers after they'd been tortured for so long, they were mutts. It was confirmed. The operations officer at the time had us go with them to kill the POW's, and kill the team to make it look like an accident. It wasn't moral, in fact, it was probably one of the dirtier jobs I've taken, but it wasn't as bad as he made it out to be. Brenna looked away from everyone, her eyes squeezing shut. I've always warned her… but now she knew.

"So you see now why I can't let this go. They're a liability. Always. I may be in the drug business, but I've never sunk to his low," he spats toward me.

"Brenna, he has this all wrong. There's two sides to every story, this wasn't that simple-" I start, but I receive a pistol to the side of the face. I groan as I taste blood in my mouth.

"You fucking killed my team! That's all that matters, you fuckface!" Cal roars. Brenna shakes her head, looking at down at the ground.

"You think this would change my mind… like I don't already know the horrid things my own father has done? You think I don't wonder often enough all the blood on his hands?" she mutters suddenly, silencing everyone in the room. Her voice sounds deep and low, emotionless. It doesn't sound like her at all. I gulp. I wait for her to look at me and see everything of what I am. But instead, she looks a Cal.

"Well, you're right. It does change my mind. I thought that once I saw it, I'd never look at him the same. But the truth is, I look at him and I see everything I want to be. I want to be as strong as he is, as brave, as courageous. Someone who fights tirelessly for a daughter so undeserving and stubborn that I'm surprised he hasn't given up on me. So it does change my mind. Because now I know that I'm capable of looking past all the shit he's done, and seeing the person I want to be. And maybe that puts the same blood that's on his hands on mine, I don't know. But at the end of the day, I don't care. He's my hero," she finally looks at me, tears in her eyes, but they're not sad. They're just apologetic. And I know what that was about. That was her way of apologizing for everything she's put me through, everyone she's gone against. I smile at her, nodding, acknowledging that I forgive her. She smiles back, a single tear falling. What I wouldn't do to brush away that tear right now and be by her side. I couldn't believe her though, I couldn't be her hero. I've warned her time and time again that I'm not a hero.

"Well isn't that just adorable?" Cal mutters, annoyed, raising his pistol to her once more. He doesn't hesitate and a shot fires from it, sending her flying backwards. Her body smacks the ground with an impressive clap, and she lays there completely unresponsive. Dead.

"No!" I roar, as she lays on the ground not moving. I tear from my bonds, by the man behind me strikes his pistol over my back and I fall to my knees. I can hear Thorn yelling over his gag, even if he was pissed off at her.

Her body lays lifeless on the ground, as Cal walks over to her cautiously. _Fuck. No. I couldn't have just lost her again. So easily. I can't do this shit anymore._

Cal kneels down next to her, grasping her face.

"Don't fucking touch her!" I hiss, pain betraying my voice. Cal's eyes shoot up toward me and I can see the sadistic glow in them. He pushes Brenna up into a seated position. Her body was limp in his arms, and he grasps her chin again.

"Now, Brenna, tell daddy here about your desperate attempt to be valiant and loyal," he sneers into her lifeless ear. Her eyes suddenly snap open and my heart starts to beat again. She drives an elbow into his mouth, and pulls her pistol around. He was just as quick and kicks it out of her hand. He drives a punch toward her head and she grabs it and twists. He shoulder gives way and he ducks out of her grasp.

"You fucking bitch!" he shouts, wiping the blood away from the corner of his mouth.

 _How was she alive?_

She unbuttons her shirt, showing Kevlar underneath. _Damn you, Drummer, looks like I did owe you._ She grins cockily at Cal. I shake my head in disbelief, not stopping the smirk that surfaces on my lips. She really was my girl.

"Alright, you little bitch. Let's see what Daddy has taught you," he charges at her again, and I'm helpless as the men behind me keep several guns at my head. I nod at my team and they begin to silently free themselves as quickly as they can. Brenna just needed to hold out for a few minutes more. _For the love of god Brenna, remember everything I've taught you._

She was too exhausted for this, and I could tell. He delivers a solid punch to her ribs and she cries out, falling backward. I tense as she rolls away just in time for a swift kick to her head that would've likely broken her neck instantly. Her eyes briefly meet mine, and I see something spark inside of them. She gets to her feet quickly, and charges him again. She deflects his blows left and right, with sudden newfound energy and determination. I don't know where this was coming from, but it was fueling her fire. I grin. Cal was even getting overwhelmed, but it was all shock. If she didn't knock him out soon, he would be able to anticipate her blows.

She swings her leg over his neck, curling her knee around his head. She uses every muscle in her body to do a full-body takedown and slams Cal's torso into the ground with a breathtaking thud. Every punch, every kick, and every move she deflected only made me more and more proud of her. Her body moved quicker than eyes could follow, her anger and vexation providing incredible power to her fists. She was a fighter, and a hell of a good one. The intense paternal pride I had in this moment would help finish this once and for all.

She delivers one final punch to his forehead, knocking him completely unconscious. Everyone's rifles in the room turn to her and she staggers back to find cover. But my team has been silently busy freeing themselves. Smilee and Mars begin to take out men all around us while shots are fired ahead. In the brief time that Smilee and Mars granted us, we all took cover. Brenna ducked under a crate. I could see her from across the hangar, and she was pinned down pretty bad. Most shots were going toward her.

"Christmas, my rifle!" I shout. He tosses it to me and soon, everyone has their weapons back and it's a full firefight. I keep my eyes on Brenna but she perks up suddenly when her eyes focus on something from across the room. David has entered the hangar. Brenna and I lock eyes, and she pleads with me in her eyes.

 _Fuck it. You owe me, kid._

I nod at her, letting her know I would spare him. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, I see her smile widely.

"Don't shoot David, not until Brenna can get to him. We're gonna let her try it her way," I order. Thorn looks at me, pissed the hell off. Honestly, everyone else could give a rats ass.

"What?!" he shouts.

"That's an order, Thorn! At least until Brenna can try it her way!" I shout back at him. I provide cover fire for her to chase after him, and as soon as he sees her coming after him, he runs back out. She chases him out of the hangar. _Shit._

"Go after her, we got this!" Gunnar shouts. I nod a thank you towards my team and run to where she just left.

 _Brenna's POV_

"David! Wait!" I scream at him as we chase each other through various halls. This place was like a goddamn maze. I hear his footsteps and all I can do is follow the sound. "Goddammit, stop!" I yell. The halls go dead silent. So I stop moving. I creep around the silent and dark halls of the living quarters again. I hear something drop down the hall, and I take off toward the sound. But as I do, I'm close-lined and punched hard in the chest. I take a staggering breath in and I look up and realize it was David, whose eyes are completely glazed over. He looked even worse than when I saw him last. And his time, the drug had taken his mind hostage completely.

"David?" I choke, surprised by his state.

"It didn't fucking matter! You still chose his side! Why the fuck would you choose his side?" he roars. Shit. He's been taught to associate pain with me. The same way I was with Barney. But David is so much more broken than I was. He's too far gone. If anyone in their right mind was here right now, they'd shoot him just so he'd be out of his misery.

"David, listen to me. He's in your head. Breathe. What kind of father would do this to his son?" I plead silently, choking still. David kicks my injured rib and I feel it crack and I cry out. The sound of my painful cry stirs David briefly. _Shit I know what I have to do._

"David, I won't fight you. Please. Don't," I beg silently, putting down my gun.

"You don't know what's right for me! He's not a good man, sure, but neither is your dad!" he screams.

"He doesn't have to be! I still love him, he's my dad! It's unconditional, a daughter's love. It's the same way for you, I know that's why you're confused. He made you think he cared so much when he found you after I got you out of Church's grasp. It was the perfect setting, you were so broken and he needed someone like that. You needed someone, after Mia died. I wasn't there, because you walked away. David, I'm so sorry. It's my fault. No one else's. If I hadn't come along, Mia-"

"Don't fucking say her name!" he roars, grabbing my arms and throwing me against a wall. I wince as my rib protests and the wound on my arm reopens. Tears leak from my eyes.

"David, this isn't your fault. You can be as angry as you want. It's okay. I'm sorry," I wheeze, and he delivers a sickening punch to my mouth. I spit out blood as he continues to lunge at me. I wasn't sure how long he delivered his blows. I just kept myself conscious. He pins me against the wall by the throat, cutting off my air supply. I could barely see him, my vision was covered in red blood. I hear Barney's distant voice. Shit.

"Brenna? Where are you?" he yells over and over again frantically. I look at David in a panic.

"David. Please. Listen to me. Look at what you've done to me. If he sees this, he won't hesitate. He'll kill you. I'm in pain, David. Please. I love you," I beg, and he suddenly stops. He loosens his hold on my throat, and air floods my blocked trachea. I cough and sputter as I try to breathe. The haziness in his eyes begins to clear up as tears flood his vision.

"Brenna… I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. I'm so fucked," he cries, his hand still on my throat but in a gentle caress.

"It's okay. I'm going to get you out. It's okay. I promise," I rasp, relief finally dousing the forest fire that was raging deep within my consciousness. Then, Barney rounds the corner. He takes all but to seconds to assess the situation, with my current state and David's hand still around my throat.

"Barney, no wait!" I scream, but it's too late. He whips his pistol around and pulls the hammer back three times.

All three shots go into David's chest.


	50. Chapter 50

_Hey guys! I'm not sure if you're enjoying the story, it's been quite the roller coaster. But I have a bunch of chapters pre-written, and there's plenty of less-dangerous drama to occur and then some perfect moments that our heroes Brenna and Barney deserve :) In any case, please let me know in the reviews what you think, and if I should continue writing this! Have a great day!_

* * *

"No!" I scream, as David falls to his back. I catch him but go down with him, as he lay dying across my lap. He wheezes and coughs, trying to breathe.

"No. No, no, no, no. David. Look at me. Breathe. It's okay. You'll be okay," I sob, shock beginning to throw my body into shivers. I cover his wounds with my hands tightly but thick, heated blood spills between my fingers. I hear more people arrive in the hallway but I don't look up to see who it is.

"Brenna. I haven't got l-long. I'm s-sorry that you d-did all this f-for me. I'm s-so sorry. I never wanted any of this," he chokes as blood begins to pull in his mouth. I kiss his forehead, clutching him close to me and rocking back and forth.

"It's okay. You didn't do anything wrong, you never have. You're gonna be fine. It's alright," I weep, my voice uneven and foreign even to my own ears. David takes my hand and forces me to look at him with the other.

"Y-you are the most loyal person in the world. I never d-deserved your friendship. This is a g-good thing. I'll g-get to see Mia again," he smiles, coughing up blood onto our hands. I shake my head.

"No, dammit. You're not leaving me. You're not going, not you too. I can't lose you too," I murmur quietly into his ear. My hands trembled as I held him, I was starting to lose my sanity. He shakes his head.

"You w-won't. I promise. I'll be walking beside you every day. Just live your life the way _you_ s-should. Not through any g-guilt and remorse, okay?" he staggers and I can tell he's close. I nod, tears spilling from my eyes.

"Promise me," he begs, his voice cracking. I nod once more.

"Okay I promise," I cry, pulling him to me more. He nods.

"Tell Mira and Zane the same. And that I love them," he grasps my hand tightly and takes one last breath in.

"Okay, I'll tell them. I'll tell them, David. I promise," I swear to him, looking into his eyes as they drain of life. He caresses my face.

"I love you, too," he wheezes, and his hand falls slack back to his torso. His head drops and his one good eye turns grey and lifeless before my eyes. I feel his body turn cold in my arms, and I begin to shake him.

"David. David!" I scream, clutching him to my torso.

Before I can stop myself, I scream into his torso, gripping his shirt. Grief and remorse expel themselves from my body through my piercing cries. The pain I feel as my heart literally shreds itself into pieces is unmeasurable. Nothing compared to the drug, nothing compared to the torture. That I could take for days. Someone puts a hand on my shoulder and I tense. I recognize the hand.

"You. You nodded at me. You were gonna spare him. You lied to me. You tricked me," I hiss, my throat raw. I stand, looking at David's body. I must've been screaming longer than I thought. My whole body is sore from holding him and my lungs feel swollen in my chest. And now, everyone was here. Including Mira and Zane, who sat across from me and David, crying. Zane held Mira closely in his arms. But I couldn't look at them. I had to deal with this first.

"Brenna, he was choking you, he's literally almost beat you to death-"

"I don't fucking care! He was coming back! Each time he punched, he came back! And before you turned the corner, he remembered everything! And you knew that! Don't fucking lie to me!" I turn around in a rage, shoving Barney backwards with any strength I had left. He stumbles backward, but not far. His black eyes address me with sorrow and regret but it meant nothing. I picked up David's pistol and pointed it at him. He raises his hands.

"Brenna, please. Wait. I'm so sorry. I saw he had his hand on your throat and you looked like you had just taken a pummeling. It looked really bad when I turned the corner, it was just instinct," he tried to explain himself. I shake my head, tears spilling from my eyes.

"Liar," I whisper, my voice cracking as tears stream down my face. I cock the gun, unsure of what my own intentions are. He looks at the gun and back at me unsteadily.

"Brenna. Put the gun down," he warns lowly. I shake my head, tightening my grip.

"You did this. You never planned on sparing him. You tricked me. Just like you tricked Cal all those years ago. You play people, that's how it works, isn't it? That's how you win as often as you do?" I ask snidely. He shakes his head.

"It's not about winning, and if it were, we'd lose every time. Taking a life isn't a winning situation no matter what," he says calmly but it just enrages me further.

" _If you believe that, you wouldn't have killed him!"_ I scream. Barney's team tenses and steps forward, but they don't need to. Because I feel something sharp prick my neck and all goes black in an instant.

 _Barney's POV_

"Barney… you couldn't have known. Brenna looked like she was ten seconds from death. He beat her senseless. I would've done the same thing," Christmas says in the copilot seat after hours of silence into our flight back home.

Brenna was unconscious in the back, getting the care and fluids she needed from Gunnar, our temporary medic since Doc was still all the way back home, injured with Luna. Mira, Zane, Trench, and Yang were in Drummers plane on the way back to Langley. Drummer asked only once if he could take Brenna. And my answer was his broken nose. He wasn't even mad.

I couldn't be too angry with him either, and regardless, my punch was all I needed. He kept her safe, she made her own choices to get here just as she always has, and he probably did just save my life by sending another tranquilizer into my daughter's throat before she sent a bullet into mine. Drummer also had Cal in custody on his plane. I wanted Brenna nowhere near that monster. I couldn't believe that Drummer wanted him alive. But, I had other priorities. Like how the hell I was ever going to get Brenna to trust me ever again.

"Doesn't matter. If I had taken just a second longer to assess the situation instead of just killing like I _always do_ , he'd be alive and Brenna would be happy. Cal would be taken away or dead, but it wouldn't matter. Because it would all be over. But now? Brenna has to live through all this pain and suffering. That I've caused her," my hands grip the yoke of the plane as anger surges through me at my own stupidity.

"You can't beat yourself up, man," Caesar overhears us and sighs. I look back to where Brenna was positioned on the makeshift cot we arranged for her. Thorn was the closest to her but he didn't sit by her side. Gunnar did, which was shocking. She took a beating, but just like her old man, she handled it well. She exceeded my expectations and impressed me, just as she always does. And for a moment there, everything felt like it was going to be okay. Right when she called me her hero.

And then everything came crashing down like pillars made of salt.

 _Brenna's POV_

I woke up to the sound of steady beeping, a familiar sound in my life. My body felt like it was on fire. The air in the room felt like it was screaming, it rang in my ears. My skin felt clammy and cold, and I felt jittery. I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't want to start this day.

My eyes reluctantly fluttered open, and I was shocked that my room was full of people. Usually they don't let more than two people in at once. But Lee, Tool, Reagan and Aiden, Smilee, Thorn, Luna, Gunnar, and Barney were here. They all stared at the TV wordlessly. I looked around at them silently, not moving my head.

 _How the hell did I get here?_

I close my eyes and try to remember, and as soon as I access my memories, pain and suffering beyond all measure surface. It felt like a chained weight locked around my ankles and was dragging me down into a dark pressurized abyss. It was suffocating, no, it was excruciating. A strangled sob crawls it way out of my soul in a cry for help that I didn't want, and everyone turns their heads in shock.

"Oh my god, Brenna!" Reagan cries, but as soon as she opens her mouth, Aiden begins to cry. Smilee takes him reluctantly and leaves the room. She rushes to my side, taking my hand softly.

"How're you feeling?" she asks me. I look around weakly. Everyone was hovering in concern, except Barney. Who sat in the corner of the room, brooding and silent. And it was no guess as to why. I avoided that area of my mind. My head hurt to much to handle heartbreak and hatred at the same time.

My body ached in all ways imaginable. I tried to open my mouth to talk, but my jaw refused to move as it screamed with protesting pain. My head throbbed and my eyes felt like they were bulging out of my head. My body felt as though it were on fire. A sensation now all too familiar.

"What all is wrong with me?" I manage to force out, but my voice is strangled. It was obvious that a broken jaw was on that list. Everyone exchanges a look. Lee takes my hand.

"How bad?" I ask, closing my eyes.

"A lot of trauma. You know, from the stabbings and… well, you took a beating there at the end, kid. You cracked several ribs, they punctured your lung trying to fix them, your last surviving kidney isn't in great shape. My guess is the abuse your body took in the last three months. Extremely malnourished, broken jaw, fractured skull, and lastly, about a two hundred or so stitches in total all across your body," Lee explains. I swallow and close my eyes, my brow furrowing.

"What's wrong with my kidney?" I ask cautiously.

"Well, you already know you lost one about a year or so ago. And these last three months have taken a severe toll on your body…" Lee trails off.

"Your kidney is failing, Brenna," Thorn finishes bitterly, but he doesn't look at me. Yeah, he's still very much pissed. I tense slightly.

"What does that mean?" I ask.

"It means they're gonna try to save it, right now you're just stage 3 kidney failure. They'll undergo dialysis to improve it, best case scenario it'll all work out. Worst case, you need a new one," Thorn mutters under his breath. The news steals my breath away. As if today was going to be easy to begin with. Now I'm gonna have to deal with this bullshit. And I wasn't going to lie, I was afraid. Reagan takes my hand.

"It's gonna be okay. You shouldn't be scared," she says softly, smiling at me. Her kind words and familiar face send me over the edge. Tears fill my eyes.

"I missed you so much, Rey," I sob, throwing my arms around her and ignoring my protesting ribs. She grasps me just as tight, as I cry into her shoulder for what feels like hours. When I pull back, only Thorn, Tool, and Barney remain in the room. She smiles sadly at me and wipes away my tears.

"We'll talk in a minute. I've gotta go find my baby," she says. I grab her wrist, smiling widely.

"Bring him back soon," I beg, my excitement for seeing Aiden soothing my pain.

"He's already trying to say words. He's four months ahead of schedule," she says proudly.

"That's amazing, Rey. You made a smart baby. I'm… sorry I couldn't be here for it," I force out the last bit. Her smile falters, and she takes my hand once more.

"I thought you were dead. Gone. There was no 'oh, well maybe she's alive'. No, this time I thought you were actually dead. We all did. So you could've missed us landing on Mars and I wouldn't care, as long as you're alive. But," she says, grasping my wrist firmly and continuing, "If you ever pull that heroic shit again, I'll kill you myself," she threatens but she's crying before she finishes. I nod, refusing to answer because if she starts, god knows I will. She pats my leg and leaves the room to get a hold of herself. Tool then quickly gathers me in his arms.

"Hey darlin'," he murmurs into my hair. My crying threatens to continue but I cut it off before it can, do Barney or Thorn don't see. His voice was just so familiar, it felt like home. And I hadn't seen home in forever.

"I missed you," I say quickly, locking my arms around someone who felt like my uncle. He smooths down my hair, shushing me.

"I missed you too. But something tells me these other two boys need to talk to you more than I do. So I'm afraid I have to release you to them," he teases but he gives me a sad smile because he knows I don't want to.

"Traitor," I mutter unhappily and he snickers as he leaves the room. Then Thorn looks at me and meets my eyes. His eyes are filled with what I would describe was a notch just below hatred. And that's how he stayed for a long time. Just staring at me. Instead of acknowledging everything I should, I elect to be more business like.

"What happened to Cal?" I ask. Thorn's jaw releases tension, and I nearly sigh in relief. Clearly I've chosen the right conversation path.

"With Drummer, in custody. They needed him alive," he explains curtly. I nod.

"And… Zane and Mira?" I choke out, closing my eyes painfully. They probably hated me, more than anything. I had no doubt that if they saw me, I'd be in a casket.

"What about them?" I hear Barney ask instead, and it's the first time I've heard his voice since I woke up. It sends daggers to my heart. I swallow.

"Brenna, for the millionth time. They don't hate you. They know you tried your best. But they had to go back to Langley for questioning. You did too, but I told Drummer no. He didn't argue," Barney explains. I shake my head, my eyes getting watery.

I feel a hand on my face and tense. When I open them, it was just Thorn. I gaze up at him warily as he wipes away a single tear that falls. He still looked angry.

"I'm gonna give you two some time," Barney mutters. I glare at him as he leaves the room. _I wouldn't advise coming back._

It's silent for a long time. Thorn sits at the end of my bed, staring at the opposite wall. I shake my head, frustrated.

"Are you going to yell at me, or not?" I snap. I regret it instantly, because when he looks at me, the fire is back in his eyes.

"That's the thing, Brenna. I want to. And then I don't want to. Because you've acted so incredibly naive and stupid. But then you've also impressed everyone, including me, with how capable you are. I want to scream at you for running off on your own. But then I don't want to because I would've done the same thing. I want to tear your head off for staying in that hell-hole prison. But then I don't want to, because I thought you were _dead_. I spent days thinking you were dead. So I'm pissed the fuck off at you. But I'm also incredibly happy that you're alive," he finishes, swallowing down his fury as he raises his voice. Usually he was so quick to be understanding and forget about all my choices I make without him. But of course, this was crossing any line I could've drawn. I reach a hand forward to take his, but hesitate and drop my hand back to the bed.

"So where does this leave us?" I whisper, asking the terminal question. He looks at me with pain in his eyes.

"You dropped your engagement ring in my back pocket. You made your choice then and there about your priorities," he stands, heading toward the door. I rip the hospital blanket off me, going to follow him. But my IV chord snags and the monitors start to go off like crazy. Thorn swears to himself.

"Dammit, Brenna. Get back in that bed," he snaps, pointing to the stiff hospital bed. I cross my arms.

"No."

"Get back in that bed or I will _put_ you there," he warns, and I square my shoulders defiantly. He growls, marches over to me, picks me up gently and sets me back in the bed. But my tactic works, as soon as I'm in his arms, he doesn't release me. He looks into my eyes, the pain he felt so clear in them that it shocks me. I caress his face, and he leans into my weak hand softly.

"I'm sorry, Thorn. I'm so sorry," I apologize quietly, resting my forehead against his. He removes himself from my arms and stands abruptly.

"I believe you. But I don't forgive you. Brenna, I can't handle the constant choices you make on your own that nearly get you killed. Because it's starting to kill me. They way you treat your life with zero regard for your own safety… it's unhealthy. It's self-destructive. The way you're going, you're going to be dead before thirty. And I can't stick around waiting for it to happen," he says quietly, and I know what he means. I've finally broken him. And I had this coming. I swallow, new painful tears surfacing.

"Thorn… I'm sorry. You're right. But I can be better, I promise-"

"Be better for _yourself,_ Brenna. You try to make everyone happy when you make decisions that no one likes. But it tears you apart inside. So from now on, make the choices you want to. It'll be easier this way. You won't have to worry about hurting me in order to stand up for what you believe in," he pats my hand. I shake my head.

"You can't leave me now, not when I need you the most. I know you hated David. But you also know he was my best friend. Don't make me lose him and you all at once," I sob, a hand flying to my mouth. Thorn's face twists in pain and he stands.

"I have to go. Do you want me to send in Barney?" he asks. My heart shreds itself for the millionth time as I realize he was walking out that door and on me. It was really over. He couldn't even look me in the eyes. And he was leaving me to deal with all of this on my own.

 _Well, fuck him too._

"Yes. May as well get all the breaking done at once," I snap through my tears, and he walks out. As soon as he's gone, my head collapses into my hands and I weep inconsolably. It wasn't but a minute later that I felt two strong arms wrap around me. I couldn't be strong anymore, I had to cry to someone. I lean into his chest, refusing to show my face as my eyes bled out tears that had been restrained for months. All the trauma, all the sacrifice, all the pain. For nothing.

"Sh, it's okay. I've got you. I'm so sorry, Brenna. I'm truly sorry. I wish I could make you see how fucking sorry I am," he says quietly, tightening his grasp on me as if I'll never let him near me again.

"If you had just waited," I sob, trailing off as violent shivers rake through me.

"I know. I know. You're right. But Brenna, he was in so much pain. It would've taken a lifetime to reverse the damage done to him by Cal. At least now he's with the people he loves most," he says, and it hurts even more that I agree with him.

"That's what makes this so much worse. When David was trying to kill me, I realized it was so much more humane to just put him out of his misery. And then I felt incredibly guilty for feeling that," I wipe away my tears aggressively. Barney pulls back and takes my face in his hands.

"You don't need to feel guilt. I've always told you that guilt and shame are wasted emotions," he says evenly, imploring me to look at him. He sighs, stroking his thumb across one of the many abrasions across my face gently. He had a look on his face, a look I've identified when he's thinking about Mom. A look that only comes out when he knows no one else will see it.

"God, look at your beautiful face. I'm so sorry, Brenna. I swear to god, you'll never ever have to do something like this ever again. I listen to you, I'll reason with you. If it means I'll never have to live through seeing your pain and causing your pain, I'll do whatever it takes," he vows, and I want more than anything to forgive him. But it hurts. The guilt of forgiving him would crush me entirely. So I knew I wasn't ready to forgive him just yet.

"I believe that you're sorry… but I need time. This all happened so fast, I haven't even had time to process. I need… space," I say evenly. Barney surprisingly looks pleased with my answer. But then again, I was pointing a gun at him the last time we talked about David.

"I understand that. Do you want me to go?" he asks, jerking a thumb toward the door. I nod, and he stands from leaning against the bed.

"Okay. I love you, kid," he surprises me by leaning down and kissing my hair, engulfing me in his arms once more. I can't help but grip him back tightly. We stay like that for a few moments, and then a nurse comes in and interrupts us. He takes the distraction to leave. He gives me one last look of pity, and walks out the door. Eventually the nurse leaves too, and I'm all alone.

* * *

Later that night, I tossed and turned painfully. I insisted on no pain medications, I didn't want needles anywhere near me. The dark hospital room and silence was making my skin crawl. I was told I was having what felt like withdrawals from all the shit they injected into me these last few months. That's why I felt so restless, that, and my rib was actually killing me. I swallow forcefully, giving up on rest, and rise from my bed into a sitting position.

I know I asked to be alone, but it was damn hard. At the same time, I know it was what I needed. To be alone with my thoughts. I rise from the bed, headed to the bathroom. I rinse my mouth out and look at my face. It was swollen and bruised to hell, my limbs looked transparent, and my hair was cut short again. Likely to remove yet another matte caused from lack of care. I didn't mind, I was due for a trim. I smirk at my wry humor and my reflection. Then I look at my wrist.

My tattoo was pretty much burned off, scar tissue covering my skin. I shook my head, wishing I had something to cover the hideous scars that went down my arms now. They were atrocious. No wonder Thorn couldn't look at me. Just thinking his name slices deep in wounds that were already open.

"If you can't sleep, maybe you should try eating something," a deep voice says behind me, startling me. When I turn around, it's Tool. He's holding chicken tacos. I can't help but laugh, taking the bag from him.

"I must be really losing my edge if I didn't hear you sitting in there," I mutter. He scoffs.

"Please. Barney had me sitting outside your room since he left," he mutters. I climb into my bed again and look at him.

"Barney made you stay? Why?" I ask. He gives me a look.

"You know, I'm starting to understand now why Barney calls you a moron," he teases and I laugh.

"It's good to hear that laugh, kid. God, you had us worried sick," Tool mumbles unhappily. I shrug.

"I'm not in too great shape right now, in case you haven't noticed," I sigh, digging into the food. I groan in ecstasy, and Tool chuckles lowly.

"I went easy on the habanero sauce. I know you love your spicy food, but I don't think you can handle your usual," he winks at me.

"This is perfect. Thank you, Tool," I smile at him, and he nods back at me. Then he sees my wrist, where my tattoo used to be.

"Those fuckers ruined my artwork," he mutters. I grunt, annoyed as well.

"Well, how good are you at tattooing over scars?" I ask. He grins.

"I've tattooed just about every mercenary you know. You can bet your little ass that I'm the best," he gloats. I laugh.

"Well, design me some sleeves. I want them covered," I shutter, looking at them unhappily. Tool takes my face in his hands gently.

"They're your story, kid. There's no reason to be ashamed of your scars. But if you want them covered, I'll start working on some designs," he says, and I can tell he's giddy with excitement. I grin and nod, and he immediately pulls out his sketchbook. I laugh.

"I'm gonna turn on the TV. Cool with you?" I ask. He shrugs, and I turn it on. It was like three AM, nothing good was on, but it was still noise.

Noise that was needed to block any of the thoughts I was supposed to be listening to.


	51. Chapter 51

_Hey again guys, just wanted to say that I'm glad some of you are enjoying the story! I don't get reviews/messages that often, so the encouragement helps so much. Sometimes I'm just not sure if people are liking it and I can get some major writers block because of it, and it slows down my chapter updates. So please write a review or message and tell me where you would love to see this story go! Enjoy, awesomeness to come!_

* * *

 _Brenna's POV_

 _Three months later…_

"Are you sure you don't want to celebrate?" Reagan begs me as I walk out of the hospital parking lot into the New Orleans heat I so loved and missed.

"I literally just got done with dialysis. And you want to drown my kidney in liquor?" I ask dryly. She laughs, following me to my Jeep.

So much yet so little had changed since I was in the hospital. While I was healing, Thorn so graciously dumped my stuff at Barney's. So I was living with him again, not that I needed to. Drummer gave me a huge cash payout, enough to live on my own while I worked for Tool again. But I didn't know what to do with the money, he gave me a quarter million. It made me feel weird to see that much money in my bank account. I guess I just didn't quite trust my mental health to be alone yet, which unfortunately forces me to see the person that I was struggling so much to look at.

Barney and I were talking again, but it wasn't anything of particular length. We ask each other about our day, he asks me about dialysis, but it's usually pretty cold stuff. Which is fine, because I wasn't ready to talk about the heavy stuff yet. They'd gone on only one job since we got back, some rescue operation for some kind of shipment that had fallen in the wrong hands. It went smoothly.

Tool had given me my job back at the parlor, but despite everything going back to normal, it was far from it. Everything was still too noisy and I wasn't allowing myself the silence my head needed in order to get right. I was putting on a believable show but on the inside, I felt like war-torn land bathed in salt. Nothing grew here, there was only plumes of smoke to cloud out the sun. Everything felt dark and cold. Mira and Zane sent me a small note saying they cremated David, and they were sorry I couldn't be there. It destroyed me inside that I wasn't there for it, and it only added to the list of reasons I'm sure Mira and Zane would never speak to me again.

Everything in my life was complicated and painful. My relationship with Barney was changed and strenuous. Thorn and I hardly acknowledged each other. Not that I wanted him to. I was so unbelievably hurt and betrayed that he left me when I needed someone so much. Barney was pretty pissed at him too. It was a rotten and cold thing to do, and the way he just dumped my stuff at Barney's made it only worse. So now I had a deep resentment for someone that I thought was my forever. But maybe I had that coming.

Reagan was once again the only person in my life I could go to. But she had a baby, she had a bigger priority than dealing with her damaged best friend. And that's the way it should be anyway. So the emptiness I felt just yawned open, stretching wider and wider everyday like a growing black abyss.

I'd had a plan in my back pocket for months. I couldn't get my head right when I was too close to the situation. I needed to get far away, to think. To chase out my demons. I knew once I did that, everything would get easier. It was something so simple. But I'd have to do it alone. And Barney would never see me off by myself. So there was only one person I could tell I was leaving.

Later on that night, Tool was downstairs as usual. Barney had already gone upstairs for the night and so I packed up my duffel and walked downstairs. I had everything I needed, I triple checked my list, and when I got downstairs Tool looks up. His black eyes narrow slightly.

"Hey darlin. What's with the bag?" he says as he looks at me through the mirror. I look at my bag and sigh, then I look at him. And he understands.

"Are you sure?" he sighs, closing his eyes.

"I need to get my head right, Tool. I need some space," I explain. He nods.

"You realize that's not a one months vacation?" he says, gesturing to my small bag. I shrug.

"I'll figure it out."

"I see. And you know this may take some time? Fixing yourself isn't an easy task. And I know you, because I know your father so well and the two of you are one and the same. You'll fix yourself, but your pride will keep you from coming back," he mutters unhappily. I sigh, turning back toward my bag.

"Well, that can be one of the many things I have to learn to manage. But I can't do anything if I stay here," I tell him. Tool nods.

"I understand."

It grows silent. I pull a letter from my pocket that I wrote for Barney.

"You don't have to tell him we talked. But if you could give him this, it may save him from thinking I got kidnapped again," I chuckle sadly. Tool snorts, taking the letter from me.

"It'll take everything he has not to go after you. But I'll keep him here. You do what you gotta do, girl," he rises from his chair, gripping me in a tight hug.

"I'll come back, Tool. I promise," I say. He releases me and holds me at arms length.

"I'm going to hold you to that."

* * *

 _Barney's POV_

 _Hey Dad,_

 _First of all, before you freak out, I have a plan. So don't worry. But I need to get out of here, to get some space. My head hasn't been right for a while, while you sleep, I'm tossing and turning. I feel numb. There's a lot of things I'm not done sorting through, and I can't keep going day to day the way I am because I almost feel like everything is just icing over. Like I'm turning into a blank canvas._

 _I don't know how long I'll be gone. But I doubt I'm going to call very often. If at all. Please understand why. I just need to do this for me. Like I said, don't worry about me. I'll be fine. And it's not like you won't have eyes on me the whole time anyway, I know you can't just let things go._

 _Tell Reagan I'm incredibly sorry. I don't want her to think I ran off because I felt alone. She's always been a shoulder to lean on, but she has a kid, and that should be her priority. Not her damaged best friend. And speaking of Aiden, if she wants to choose a new godmother, I'll understand. I just want him to grow up well and deeply loved. And safe._

 _Also, know that this isn't because of you. There's nothing that Cal showed me that I didn't already know. I'd just never seen it. It didn't change anything. You're still my hero._

 _Brenna_

I stared at the note in my hands and the glass of bourbon in the other. My body was rigid and stiff from sitting in this chair for so many hours, remaining mute. Christmas and Gunnar were here with Tool and I, and they all watched me warily.

"Barney… I'm not sure it's okay for you to be drinking," Christmas says, not sure how to handle this situation. He was right, but he'd also never seen me with hard liquor. I looked up at him.

"We're back at square one," I slur. Tool furrows his brows.

"What now?" he asks, confused. I shake my head angrily.

"Almost two years ago, I didn't even know her. And after all the shit, after all the bullshit I put her through, she only just now left. She should've left long ago. Instead, she leaves this note and runs off with her tail tucked because it finally beat her. I finally drove her away," I mutter lowly, taking a sip from my glass. It burns its way down my throat and encases my chest in its fiery breath. This feeling, this all too familiar feeling, revived memories of when I left Sabrina. I sigh and continue, "This is what's good for her and I know it."

"Barney, this wasn't you. She said herself that you didn't do this. She was doing this for herself. I don't blame her," Christmas says. Suddenly I hear the garage door open, and seconds later, Thorn bursts through the door.

"Tool texted me. Where is she?" he asks frantically. All eyes turn to him in bewilderment.

"Why do you give a shit? You've barely said two words to her since the hospital," Gunnar grunts. I scoff in agreement. When Thorn handed me back the engagement ring, I tried to convince him to not walk away. I still couldn't believe he went through with it, right when she needed him the most. Of all the times he chose to be mad at her for her reckless behavior, he chose the worst time. I didn't know what was going through his head, but it was doubtful that she would ever forgive him. Not to mention, it hurt her a lot. Almost more than David dying. David's death destroyed her, but even she knew that it was the humane thing to do. David would've been gone forever if he had lived. But Thorn abandoning her like that… well, it was just plain cruel. And she may never trust me again, but I'm confident in saying that she still cares. Thorn, however, she hates. For plenty of good reasons.

"Yes but I still care-"

"Bullshit!" I drunkenly shout at him, and everyone in the room flinches. It was good to see I still had my edge, I was beginning to think Brenna had softened me too much. I recall briefly that we'd made a promise together that I would one day retire, and we set a timeframe. But now I doubt she gives a damn.

Thorn looks at me nervously, eyeing the glass of liquor in my hand.

"Barney, maybe you shouldn't-"

"Don't fucking start, kid. Maybe _you_ shouldn't have abandoned her when she needed you. Of all the people she needed to lean on, you were her best option. She wasn't _ready_ to deal with me yet. She needed to be on her own, with you, not living with me. But because you _kicked her out,_ she had no choice but to see me everyday. The person who killed her best friend. And she had to confront those demons long before she was ready. And you know what? She couldn't take it. So she left," I snap, and he looks shocked.

"I didn't… abandon her. I couldn't handle the choices she made on her own anymore, the same choices that have almost gotten her killed a million times-"

"God forbid she should act like a fucking adult and choose for herself! Christ, Thorn, I've _never_ been a fan of the way she did things. Obviously. Otherwise she wouldn't have ran off to join Drummers circus. But I'd _never_ leave her side, I'd _never_ stop rooting for her if something went south. She had to learn that for herself. And the one person that was _always_ there for her when I was pissed off? You. And then suddenly she had no one," I rage on, standing abruptly from my chair. Christmas puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Easy, Barney," he mutters quietly.

"Listen, she's gonna get herself killed one day! And that's fine, if that's what she wants. And it certainly seems like it. But I'm sure as shit not gonna stick around if that's her choice. She's as self destructive as you are, and I'm sick of trying to be okay with it!" Thorn snaps back, and everyone in the room cringes as my fist rears back and punches him in the jaw. He flies to the right, falling in his knees. He clutches his jaw, flames in his eyes.

"Fucking bullshit. You left her because you had to live for over forty-eight hours thinking she was dead. And nothing felt worse. You wished you never met her. And then come to find out she was never dead. But you'd do anything to make sure you never felt like that again. That kind of helplessness, mourning loss, and incredible ache. So you shut down the feelings you had for her to save your own heart. I would know. I did that to her mother. But let me tell you something. It may seem better this way, you may think your heart is guarded and you're prepared for anything now. But really? It's just turned to ash," I hiss, clenching my fists. Thorn's eyes widen as I speak the truth, and I know I've hit a nerve.

"Whether what you're saying is true or isn't, she shouldn't leave like this. I need to find her-"

"She's already gone," Gunnar grumbles under his breath.

"Then I'll track her down!" Thorn snaps.

"No, you won't! No one will. This is what she wants. She needs to do this on her own, stop fucking trying to baby her," Christmas interrupts all of us angrily. And I agreed with him.

"Christmas is right. Tool, I want you to find us our next job," I order. He looks wary.

"Barney, I don't know if-"

"Please," I ask nicer, in hopes it wins him over. He sighs, picking up his phone. "Thank you."

If this was how things were now, then this is how it's gotta be. Everything would go back to the way it was before she came along. If at all possible.


	52. Chapter 52

_Hey guys, sorry for the delay. Finals week is over, which hopefully means more writing time. Enjoy this chapter and as always, reviews are lovely! Thank you for your continued support :)_

* * *

 _Brenna's POV_

 _Two years later…_

"Brenna, you've gotta come in early tomorrow. Miranda just got dropped," Grant, the assistant manager sighs. He looks at me with piercing green apologetic eyes. The wrinkles around his eyes showed how tired he was, and how the constant manual labors of this job were wearing him down. The older man, around fifty, already had back problems. I wish he didn't have to work at all.

I narrow my eyes at him playfully.

"Puppy dog eyes. Nice touch," I tease. He laughs, nodding toward the shelves.

"Thank you, Bren. I owe you. Can you pick up where she left off?" he asks me. I nod, picking up her box.

"If you don't mind me asking, why did she get fired?" I ask. Miranda was always a shit worker but she's also been sleeping with the store owner, Rex, for years... our _married_ store owner. Grant sighs.

"Rex's wife found out. She stayed, but Miranda had to go. Honestly, it was about time. Miranda was always terrible, he only kept her around as a play-thing," Grant mutters. I shudder at his use of the word play-thing. I hated working with Rex, but he wasn't the worst boss in the world. But then again, this was coming from a girl who's boss once tried to kill her.

The humidity and heat clung to my dark skin as I stocked the shelves, I had no doubt I was sweating through my clothes. But in Miami, this wasn't an uncommon occurrence. And as if right on cue, thunder booms ahead. I take a moment and set my box down, rushing over to the store's front door and propping it open. Right as I do, rain from the heavens comes down in buckets, and it brings a smile of peace to my face. I turn back to my work and Grant is smiling.

"So where's your next trip?" Grant asks me. I ponder for a moment.

"I hadn't decided yet, I was thinking maybe Peru," I tell him, just making idle conversation. Though that wasn't where I was actually considering. My passport had tripled in the amount of stamps it had in it just from last month. The traveling helped conquer a lot of blockages in my mind. Whenever I was starting to feel stuck, I'd hop on a plane and go somewhere new.

That's how I lived for the first six months after I left. Just hoping from city to city, trying to figure shit out. But I realized I needed to start over someplace new, with new people. Create some kind of foundation. So I've been in Miami for over a year and a half now. And I honestly loved it. I loved the city, I especially loved the gruelling heat, and I loved even more the nightlife.

Hence why I took up a job as a nighttime sales associate for a twenty-four hour convenience store in Liberty City, Miami. It was a shit job, but it was extremely mundane. And easy. Which is what I so desperately needed years ago. But now, it was just a healthy routine. Spend the first part of the day sleeping, get up, enjoy the beach or some sun, go to work at seven, get off around three in the morning, and go to enjoy Miami's nightlife. It was the perfect schedule for me. And I never complained about it, I just worked hard.

Rex appreciated it, even if he was a completely slime ball. So he let me have the time off to go travel often. That, and it's hard to say no to someone who regularly worked with his mistress and saw his wife. I tried not to judge, Rex has never killed anyone with his bare hands as far as I know. So as far as monsters goes, he definitely wasn't the biggest one working here.

I shiver as memories surface, memories long repressed.

 _Brenna. You're not a bad person. He died because he put his faith into the wrong man. It wasn't you._

I repeated the mantra over and over again, but sometimes it didn't help.

"Hey, I'm gonna take a quick look in the back for more coin rolls," Grant says. It disrupts my mental anguish and I'm thankful for it.

"Sure, I'll man the register," I say, putting my last bottle of mayonnaise on the shelf. I jump over the register counter as Grant walks past, and he smiles at me.

"You're a hard worker, Bren. Be right back," he says. I nod and smile, standing in front of the cash box.

It was almost three now, and normally work goes by pretty quickly because it was a welcome distraction, but tonight is droned on and on. Part of the reason being that I really did need to figure out where I wanted to go next.

Eventually, Grant comes back in. And he stops in his tracks when he sees me. He sets down the small box of coin rolls.

"Brenna, are you alright?" he asks me. I look at him strangely.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I ask him.

"Because you've looked lost in thought all night," he points out, because he's right. I sigh. I wasn't usually this obvious, but I was approaching my two year anniversary of when I left and I had gotten no closer to fixing all the dark shit.

"Has it been that obvious?" I mumble. He nods.

"Look, I know we're just coworkers, but sometimes I get this feeling… I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't leave you alone," he finishes awkwardly. I meet his eyes, shocked he's picked up on so much.

"I'm alone a lot, Grant. I'm on my own. It's what I'm used to. So don't worry about me," I give him a fake smile, but turn back to the register to avoid his eyes.

"I know you've got a past. It's easy to see you've got scars all over your arms, you just randomly appeared almost two years ago, you never like to hang out after work, you prefer to be alone, you travel often to get away from here so I know you don't need the money from this rundown shitshow. And honestly, I don't need the answers to all these questions. It's none of my business. We've all got our demons. But Brenna, honey, sometimes I get the feeling that yours are clawing at your back everyday. Take it from an old man's mind, it's no way to live," he says gently. _Yea, you aren't the only old man who's tried to tell me that._

"Grant, you're hardly old," I interrupt, hoping he'll stop prying. But it doesn't work.

"Please, just, think about it," he sighs. I turn back toward him slightly.

"Think about what?" I ask. He gives me a knowing look.

"Go back to wherever home is. Because that's where you keep wandering off to in there," he taps my forehead, smiling in a bittersweet way. I finally let my guard down a little, my fake smile slipping.

"I've burnt that bridge, Grant. I've gotta make new ones here," I whisper. He looks surprised that I've admitted to something, so surprised that he's quiet briefly.

"It's never too late, kid. Don't let your pride ruin your life. Shame, pride, guilt. All wasted emotions," he advises me, and Barney's words appear in my head. They're so achingly clear and familiar that my heart nearly breaks at the sound of his voice.

"I know. And that's what I'm trying to work through. One of the many things," I sigh, turning back toward the register.

"Then you need to stop with all this," he gestures to the store around him. I follow his hands.

"What?"

"This place. This job. You took it as a distraction. You've managed to fight and work through whatever your reasons were for walking away. But now you've gotta work through what's stopping you from going home. You've gotta root through all the pain, sweetheart," he reaches behind me, takes my clock-in card, and swipes me out. "That's your last clock-out. You're a fantastic worker, Brenna. But you're an even better person. And you deserve a better future than this place."

"Are you firing me?" I ask, confused and bewildered. He laughs.

"If that's how you want to see it. But I choose to see it as setting you free. So go. You need to go wherever it is that all your problems started," he says wisely.

But that just the problem. I had no idea where it all started. My problems originated all the way back to when I lost Uncle Lou for the first time. But even then, it was just loss. I've always been able to handle loss and death. But my pain, my trauma, started when I met Barney. And I of course never blamed him. And I sure as shit wasn't going back to New Orleans. Especially because I was only a fraction better than I was. And I needed to get better than that. For Barney's sake as well. Not to mention, for all I know, he's tired of the choices I make without him as well. I may hate Thorn for his decision to leave, but his reasons were solid. Barney probably felt the same way he did now.

But then again, the choices he's made without me throughout the years have caused me some serious mental problems as well. We just weren't healthy.

Suddenly, in a moment pure clarity, I realize what I have to do. And Grant notices.

"What?"

"I know where I'm going next," I inform him and he grins.

"Then go. Your ass is fired anyway," he winks, and I laugh. And because I can't help it, I throw my arms around him.

"Thank you, Grant. I owe you," I say vowfully. I would find a way to make sure he never had to work here again someday. The world owes him that, and if it couldn't pay that good karma forward, I could help speed it along.

* * *

 _Barney's POV_

"How's Gunnar doing?" I shout to the back of the plane.

"I gave him a sedative. He didn't like it, but he's out cold. As far as the leg goes, it should be fine. Narrowly missed the knee cap, hit cartilage. It was a damn lucky shot," Doc shouts back. The blonde giant hated sedatives and any kind of drug since he remarkably got clean. I was thankful for it, but it made treating him a pain in the ass sometimes. I nod, and look at Lee.

"Lucky ring," I gesture to my hand and he rolls his eyes.

"Lucky ring my ass," he mutters, and I laugh and clink beers with him.

"Floor it, I've got an angry wife to deal with," Lee jokes, but I know he's serious. I laugh and nod.

"You got it," I take a puff of my cigar, and settle back into my seat for the long flight.

"We still got a job offer from Drummer waiting for us when we get back," Toll Road shouts up. I growl under my breath.

"I thought I made it clear that we don't take jobs from him anymore. Or anyone from the agency," I mutter under my breath.

"It's five million," Caesar taunts, and I remain silent. I've said all I need to say to them, and to Drummer. Unless he hands over Cal for me to carve him alive, no more jobs. Easy as that.

"Enough, guys. He said no," Christmas says, and I give him a thankful nod.

"It'd be good for Smilee since he hasn't been on a job in a few months," Thorn suggests.

"Yes, because he has a kid and a fiancé. And I'm not throwing him back in under hellfire. I wouldn't be surprised if he clocks out for good soon anyway," I tell them. It'd be the smart thing to do.

"Yea but he needs the money," Luna agrees.

"Reagan has a job. And so does Smilee, whenever he wants to come back. Chill," I warn them, and by my tone of voice, they know that it's time to back off.

* * *

"Seriously though, where did you get the ring?" Christmas laughs after making fun of my superstitions. I grin.

"Some stories are better left untold, my friend," I say ominously.

"Oh there he goes again, being Mr. Vague," Christmas throws a hand up in the air in a frustrated way. I laugh in response. Thorn enters the cockpit with a worried look on his expression. I immediately turn around to check on Gunnar, who's still knocked out cold with Doc keeping an eye on him.

"What's up, kid?" I ask, tensing slightly. I still wasn't entirely impressed with him, even if shit hit the fan over two years ago. And I think he knows that, he walks on eggshells around me. In fact, a lot of the team did.

"It's… it's Brenna," he stutters.

My whole body tenses at the mention of her name, my hands gripping the yoke so hard it may snap. The air in my throat catches and stays, not allowing me the air I need to breathe. My lungs squeeze in, acting like a cage for my heart that suddenly aches with an agonizing and gnawing misery. I try to breathe in but the air in the cockpit suddenly feels like it's scorching, making my throat feel like sandpaper and steel wool. The fire-kissed air flares out across my skin, sending prickling goosebumps down my arms and sweat beads to form on my forehead. No, misery wasn't a strong enough word.

Death was easy, simple. Once you're gone, that's it. But she was out there somewhere on her own, something I swore both to her and Sabrina in my prayers she would never have to be again. This was so much harder. Knowing she was out there and alive but I couldn't see her. I could if I wanted to, easily. But something about the tone of the letter she gave me so long ago kept me from going after her. She was... broken. So I stayed away, to at least give her the respect she deserves. But it was fucking hard, especially at first. I kept tabs on her, made sure she was safe. I don't think I'll ever be able to entirely let her go, but as long as she was protected, I could at least pretend it was okay.

"I thought I said to stop keeping track of her," I say through clenched teeth. Christmas gives Thorn an alarmed glance, warning him off.

"I still… check in on her. I just don't tell you. But anyway, it's where she is right now," he informs us. My teeth may shatter from my jaw being clenched so hard. Anger, pain, and regret surge all at once that cause me to feel only one confusing emotion; rage.

"She travels a lot. I'm not worried," I growl in a low, warning tone. I hated the traveling at first, especially knowing that she did it alone. At first I thought she was taking jobs on the side. But after Thorn did some surveillance, we discovered she really was just backpacking through Australia.

"No, I know that. But she's in Africa," he says. I tense once more, but refuse to let it bother me. Especially since Africa was just below my plane.

"Like I said. Travel."

"No… Barney, she's in Luanda," he finally finishes, and I'm finally able to expel the breath I took. _The prison? Why was she at the prison?_

"She's probably just passing through. Wanted to confront some demons. I wouldn't worry," Christmas interrupts Thorn, glaring at him. But he was right. Wherever she was, whatever she was doing, it wasn't my concern anymore.

"We aren't going to go back for her?" Thorn asks in alarm.

"Why would we? If she wanted that, she would've let us know," Mars grabs Thorn's arm in an attempt to pull him out of the cockpit.

"You've never pursued her. She probably thinks we don't want her back. This is the closest we've been-"

"I've made my peace with her decision. She did it for her, and I trust that she told me the truth. It's not my problem that you fucked up and now you regret it," I snap coldly, and it stuns him. Luna finishes pulling him away, and Christmas stares at me for a long time.

"Are you alright?" he asks. Her name hasn't been brought up in months, and it was easier when she wasn't. So I understood his concern.

"Let's just get home. I want to check on something."

* * *

 _Brenna's POV_

It was hard getting here. The language was damn near impossible, but then again, my mom taught me Spanish. Not Portuguese. And even as a half-Latina, my Spanish still sucked. Everyone's directions to the outskirts made no sense, but finally, after a long damn walk, I was here.

I smirk as I stare at the smoldered ruins. Clearly the prisoners went back at some point and had a party with burning the place down. It was still mainly intact, but it had been three years. The prisons fences were torn and ripped to shreds, the yards were overgrown and the walkways of the complex now has grass and dirt lining the walls and cracks.

I stood at the entrance to the prison, gun in hand. It was likely unnecessary, but I've learned it was better to be prepared. I creep in slowly, dirt gritting under my boots. I don't know why I felt the necessity to gear up, likely to do with the underlying fear of being back here.

I still remembered the layout well. I walked past the hangar where Mia died, my demons weren't awaiting me in that room. I walked past the lab where I was tortured, only pausing to look in briefly. The equipment was all gone, likely salvaged by Cal and his team before it was burnt to smithereens. Everything was of course pitch black, but that was due to the time of night. The structure and ceilings were mainly gone anyhow.

When I get to the holding cell door, I pause with my hand shaking on the handle. The walls were partially collapsed, there was no use for the door. But I had to open it. I had to force myself to physically let all the demons and monsters that sit waiting for me just inside out to dance.

In a breath and moment suspended in time, I shove the handle down and push my way in. I look at the ground where my feet are, afraid to look up. But when I do, I go from standing to on my knees in just seconds.

David's cell was immediately to my left, the wall still intact where the directions for our escape route was. His blanket was even still here. I look down at my hand where his mother's ring rests on my finger permanently now, as my lucky ring. Then I look back up at my cell, where the map was still carved into the wall.

All the wind leaves my body as I choke on my own fear and grief.

"You were supposed to come back for this. You were supposed to take this back, you promised me. We made a deal," I swallow, trying to just breathe. But it wasn't working. Instead, I just crawl over to the iron bars, gripping them tightly. I stare at his blanket on the ground, and eventually, I pick it up.

I was planning on taking it, but what I see underneath shakes me to my core. It was the lyrics to the lullaby I used to sing him, carved into the stone. He must've taught it to himself, so he could sing it when I was off being tortured. To calm him.

He really did love me so much. We were family. I throw the blanket across the room with an angry scream, and I start kicking and throwing rocks all around the cell walls. I collapse once more to my knees, sobbing into my hands uncontrollably in the middle of the room.

I sat there, both crying and staring off into the distance for hours. I was on my knees still, but I hadn't moved. And I could tell my body, especially my legs, weren't appreciative.

"What was the point?" I rasp to myself, looking around the wall bitterly. This did nothing. I hoped it would force me to confront some of the fucked up shit, starting from where I met him. But it just triggered everything good I've done, everything good I've done to progress my mental health, to come crashing down once more.

All I wanted to do was go home. But where even was home at this point? I looked briefly at the gun in my hands, and in my lowest of low moments, contemplated what it would be like to have this all be over. But that moment ended as soon as it began, thankfully, and I tuck my gun away. _Easy, Brenna, you aren't that dark._ I rise stiffly to my feet, the sky now pink with the first rays of morning sun. I stand, looking around once more for hope. And I see none.

As I start to walk away, the first peak of sun over the small hill blinds my eyes briefly. I throw up an arm to shield the light, but then stop myself as I stare into the pink, warm light that was now drying my tear-drenched cheeks.

The wind that was once cool suddenly had a lively warmth to it. It picked up around my feet, swirling the dust in small tornadoes. The wind grows warmer, still drying my tears like a silent caress. I almost want to lean into the wind, and let it soothe my ravaged and guilty soul.

A staggering breath goes into my lungs as I recall the last thing David said to me.

 _Live your life the way_ you _should. Not through any guilt in remorse._

 _I'll be walking beside you every day._

 _I'll be walking beside you every day._

The wind picks up as I recall his last words wrapping around me in a warm embrace. As quickly as the breath went in, I let it out.

I let out all the pain, all the anguish, guilt, and mourning. I close my eyes as everything I've felt rushes to the surfaces and flies off with the wind. The weights on my shoulders are taken and carried off as the breeze swirls around me.

And then finally, I breathe in my first clear air. I open my eyes, for the first time in years, and not a single tear falls. Instead, I smile.

"Thank you, David," I whisper, knowing that somehow, someway, he was who just helped me. I wasn't religious, and I don't think I ever could be, but I knew he kept his final promise. He'd be by my side every day.

And in return, I had to keep my promise. The promise I hadn't kept for years. It was finally time that I did.


	53. Chapter 53

_Two chapters in one night because I feel bad for not posting much this week due to finals. Enjoy! :)_

* * *

 _Brenna's PO_ _V_

I rushed back to Miami so fast, throwing everything I cared about into a bag. But as I was packing, my movements slowed. Yes, I was ready to go home finally. But would they even want me back? I was such a problem child to them, and to Barney… god I probably hurt him so much. I know I promised Tool I wouldn't let my pride get in the way of my return but he didn't understand how much I probably hurt everyone I cared for. Reagan, Barney, Aiden, Christmas, Gunnar, Luna, everyone.

I still had one last errand to run before I went back to New Orleans anyway. I needed to get to Langley. I pick up my cell and call Drummer. It rings for only one beat.

"Brenna?" he asks, bewildered.

"Hey Drummer, I'm back," I grin into the phone. He's silent at first, but finally sighs.

"Well I damn well hope you go back home to your father soon, because he won't speak to me-"

"Actually, I need a favor," I interrupt, deciding it was now or never.

"Okay, what do you need?" he says, all too willing to help.

"For my own sake, I need closure," I tell him. He's silent again as he detects what I'm saying.

"I can't just let you see him, he's in a max security prison in GITMO. You know the drill," he sighs. So do I.

"Please, Drummer. I'll owe you a favor," I offer. I hear papers rustle in the background.

"I'll have a chopper pick you up at 0500. This is _off_ the books, got it? They'll have my ass for bringing a civilian in. We'll need to give you some kind of appearance, make it less obvious," he explains. He starts to dictate everything I need to do in order to make this go smoothly.

I go to the nearest mall and start looking for nice clothes. I eventually pick out something I think will look nice on me, because fuck it. I haven't wore anything nice in at least two years.

I pick out a black pencil skirt and rose pink blouse that sets nicely on my dark skin tone. I pick up some nude tights and black pumps, some matching accessories, and curl my hair in neat and loose curls around my face. I add a touch of make up, and I'm good to go at exactly 0500.

When I arrive at the helipad on top of the building I'm supposed to meet the chopper at, I'm surprised by who's flying it.

"I thought you were sending a chopper, not flying it," I shout over the rotors. He looks me up and down, smirking.

"And I thought I said look business formal. Not jaw-dropping. We're going to a prison, you realize that right? Around men who haven't seen a woman in years?" he teases and I laugh.

"Hey, I will gladly go put back on my sweatpants," I gesture back toward the stairs and he laughs.

"Yea, whatever. Strap in, kid. We gotta get to the airport, I've secured my private plane and it should get us on with no problems."

I grin at him giddily.

"Can I fly it?" I ask. He smiles back.

"Good to have you back, Ross."

* * *

"Officer Drummer! Good to see you back, sir. I have- oh, hello. Who's this?" A younger man addresses me as I follow Drummer dutifully from the helipad. He looks me up and down quickly, likely searching for a badge. Drummer had one made for me so I could get in, it was scary how quickly he could pull strings.

"She's the new analyst over at the Office of Transnational Issues."

"Oh. Hector didn't work out?" The man asks.

"Hectors been gone for months. Anyway, this is Marcella Arvelo," he introduces us. The man shakes my hand. Drummer elected to use my middle name and my old surname, as a precaution.

"Pleased to meet you Miss Arvelo," he says as he shakes my hand.

"Has the subject been moved?" Drummer asks.

"Yessir, as instructed. Late last night, we took all precautions. We'll have eyes on her the whole time," he nods toward me. I knew the plan, but I still looked at Drummer nervously. This whole thing getting blown was resting on his ability to distract everyone so I could have one last chat with Cal.

* * *

"He's just through there, ma'am. If you have any problems, you don't have to stay in there. Just pound the door twice," a man instructs.

Suddenly, the overhead intercom goes off. Right on schedule.

"Specialist James to unit L2. Specialist James, L2."

The man in front of me curses.

"Again? I just tazed that fucker, he should be out for the count," he growls, storming off. And I know that's Drummers signal to let me know I'm cleared for entry. I quickly walk through the doors and my eyes adjust to the darkness.

Cal was sitting in a chair, his arms wrapped inwards, almost like he was in a dark grey straight jacket. His ankles were secured to the iron chair he was strapped to. He sat behind bullet proof glass with an intercom system linking my side of the room to his. And he was looking right at me, grinning.

"Miss Ross. What a pleasure," he sneers. My heels click on the floor as I approach the glass. He looks at my up and down in a leering way, it almost causes me to cover my chest with my arms. But I wouldn't let him see how uncomfortable he made me. Especially when I had all this rage to deal with.

"Well, you look all dressed up. And for what? My execution?" he taunts. I smirk, and take a seat, which shocks him.

"Not at all. I'm not interested in your death. If I were, it wouldn't have taken me two years to get here. Not to mention," I pause looking around the room and then back at him, "if I were, you'd already be dead."

He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound of his off-putting howls echo eerily off the walls.

"God, I love your fire. Could think of a few things I would love from you, actually," he says licking his lips at me. I raise a brow, refusing to let him under my skin.

"Surprising. I honestly thought you were gay, based on your treatment of your wife," I shrug. His eyes narrow and he stops playing.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" he spits. I stand once more, taking another step toward the glass.

"Easy, Brenna. You've got two minutes left," Drummer murmurs in my earpiece.

"Redemption," I tell him. He smirks.

"What? Are you venturing down the same path David was? Trying to redeem me, appeal to my humanity?" he taunts. I scoff.

"Yea, no. I don't give a fuck about you. I'm here for my redemption," I say. Cal sits back in his chair, genuinely looking confused. His eyes are tired and deep, deep within them, I see the hatred that burns so brightly in his soul for me. For everything. I sigh, shaking my head.

"We both share something in common," I tell him, pacing.

"I agree," he grins, still trying to flirt even though I was about twenty years or so his junior.

"We were both dealt unfair hands in life," I continue, and he smile disappears.

"What's your point?"

"My point is… I'm sorry. My father killed your team. If I was in your shoes, I'd be just as vengeful. Those men were your family. You couldn't give a rats ass about the POW's. It was your team that you cared about. You lost them all. And I know how it feels to lose so much. And I'm sorry," I tell him. His jaw clenched angrily.

"Condolences aren't necessary," he snaps. I shrug.

"Like I said, this isn't about you. This is my redemption, not yours. But on top of all that, I know why you're so hateful. You never learned to deal with death, to confront your demons. And honestly? I'm sorry for you. None of this was how you wanted to turn out. But shitty things happen to good people, and in turn, that makes them a shitty person," I sigh, pausing.

"Shut the fuck up! I don't need your pity, you little bitch!" he rages.

"Thirty seconds Brenna, you gotta make it out in thirty seconds," Drummer warns in my ear.

"Then you won't get it. I understand that. Pity is… well, it makes you feel weak. God, I hate that feeling. But what you do have… is my forgiveness," I finish, finally getting out my reason for coming here. All of this ended right here and right now, I needed to speak my peace. Cal sneers.

"God, you're so pathetic. I have your forgiveness? What the fuck happened? You don't remember what I did to David? You know that drug better than anyone. Which means you know how much pain he was in when he died," he gloats. Normally, his taunting would sent my blood boiling. But I remain calm and rigid still. And when it doesn't get him the reaction he wants, he starts pulling crazily at his restraints, yelling.

"David would want this for me, too. You can't hurt me, not anymore," I tell Cal after he's finally done screaming. He looks up at me, his face red and veins protruding from his forehead as hatred is so clearly on his face.

"When I get out of here, I'm going to come straight for you, you fucking bitch. You think you know pain? I'll make you _beg_ for something as easy as pain. You humiliated me, made me seem weak. And then I got locked up. That fight was lucky, I wasn't expecting someone like you to pack a punch. The next time, I'll skin that pretty little neck of yours and wear your flesh as a scarf. When I get out of here, and I will, I'm going to enjoy the screams I've never gotten from you. And you owe me plenty of them," he shakes as he speaks lowly. Subconsciously, his threat makes my hairs stand on end. But I don't respond, and turn on my heel, walking out.

* * *

"That was… impressive. I'm honestly proud of you. You kept composure well. I would've put two bullets in his eye," Drummer says, handing me a glass of water on the plane. I'd elected to not fly back, I was still a little shaken up. But I felt good. It was all finally over.

"Just promise me he can't get out," I say warily, realizing my water was actually straight vodka. I didn't mind.

"I promise, kid. And regardless, I'll make sure he won't touch you," he slaps my shoulder fondly. I smile warmly at him.

"You know, you aren't as scary as a lot of people think," I tease. He meets my eyes with the same teasing tone, but there's a shade of sadness in them.

"I had a daughter once. You remind me of her," he says simply and my smile fades.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't really expect that you-"

"She's not dead. She's just… well she's the same as her mother I suppose. She was smart enough to not stick around," he comments. I frown.

"I suppose I'm not really the one to judge her for that," I mutter under my breath, sipping my strong beverage. He chuckles.

"Let's get you to New Orleans," he says warmly.

"No, I need to go to Miami. Everything I need is there," I tell him. He hesitates to enter the cockpit.

"Brenna, you need to go home," he implores gently. I shake my head.

"Not yet. Please," I ask nicely. He nods only once, sighing unhappily.

"Why wait? I know that's where you'd rather be," he mutters and I take the copilot seat next to him.

"Because…" I trail off, rubbing my forehead.

"You're afraid they won't want you back?" he finishes. I gaze out the windshield of the plane, nodding only once.

"My guilt from all the fucked up shit with David and Church and everything else is gone. But I don't think Barney could ever forgive me," I sigh. Drummer laughs.

"Ross, you're just as thick-headed as your father. He's done plenty to you and you've done plenty to him. If he can't forgive you, he's a hypocrite. But now you two need to work on getting to a good place. Because you've honestly never had that with him," he tells me as he gears up to take off. I nod in agreeance.

"Yeah, my life has kind of been a roller coaster for the last four years," I sigh. He grunts in agreement and starts to take off, so I strap in.

"You know, Mira and Zane don't blame you either. They know you did everything you could," he says. I swallow forcefully.

"Yea, well. I haven't seen them since that day. If that says anything about what they think of me, it's not good," I mutter bitterly.

"Brenna, they're off traveling the world. Same as you. Trying to get some perspective. And they also occasionally take a job on the side. It's not personal," he sighs, but I don't believe him. I haven't even gotten a phone call, a letter, anything. Not one peep since the notification of David's cremation. Granted, I was unconscious for that. If they were still on friend status, they would've called.

"Stop. Stop brooding, I know that look. They _do not_ blame you. You aren't the only one who needed space to get their head right. Think about all the shit they went through to save him as well. Mira practically broke when we left you in Kazakhstan, she felt as though we abandoned you. She's not angry at you about David, she's... if you tell her or anyone I told you this I'll skin you, but she blames herself. Just the way you do. Her and Zane both feel like shit because they felt like they pressured you into doing all you could to save him," Drummer confesses. My skin prickles with horror.

"That wasn't the case at all! I made my own choices, they can't think that-"

"Hey, I know, kid. Believe me. But they needed time to sort through their own guilt as well. Just give them time. I have no doubt now that you're out of hiding, they'll be in touch soon. They're pretty good at vanishing from my radar, but then again, I did train you guys," he says grimly and I can't help but snort in agreement. I couldn't believe they blamed themselves for what happened to me, because they were my choices.

 _Just add it to the list of people you need to make things right with, Brenna. It's a long one._

* * *

When I get back to Miami, I take my time getting back to my apartment. I wasn't sure where I was going now that I was done with whatever I was trying to accomplish. I wasn't sure if I wanted to pack up or get one last vacation in. But to be honest, I could travel at any point I wanted to. I was just being a pussy about going back home. Every time I thought of it, my heart started racing.

As I close my front door, I reach for the light switch but pause as my hand rests on it. My hair stands on end as it usually does whenever I start to get a bad feeling. There was someone in my apartment. And they had eyes on me. I kept my gun in the coat rack, so I casually reach up for it and find that it's missing from it's usually spot. I swear under my breath, and whirl around to face the room. There's a shaded figure standing by the window, and I'm unable to see his face.

"Sorry, I took it away. I wasn't sure how quickly you would shoot, especially if you have your father's reflexes," a familiar voice says from the figure.

"Tool?" I ask in bewilderment. I switch the light on and the room floods with light. I squint briefly, and then I race forward into open arms waiting for me. He laughs loudly and picks me up, swirling me around.

"How're you doing, kid?" he asks me. I grip him tighter, tears of happiness forming in my eyes for the first time since I was probably engaged.

"I'm great," I laugh, and he finally sets me down. He puts his hands on my shoulders, looking at me up down. I realize I was still wearing my blouse and skirt with my tall heels. He whistles.

"Damn, darlin. Who you tryin' to impress?" he winks at me and I shove him off playfully.

"I had to go… meet someone," I finish awkwardly. He gives me a look.

"Did it have something to do with why you were in Luanda?" he asks knowingly. I sigh.

"Is that why you're here?" I complain. I always knew they'd be watching me. I just thought after all this time, maybe they would've given up.

"Relax. We haven't been stalking you. Thorn has, a little, but-"

"Wait, Thorn? Why?" I ask, confused. Tool gives me a sad look.

"He did a shitty thing, kid. There's no excusing that. But he still cares," he explains, but I shake my head. Of all the people I wanted to talk to and work things out, he didn't even make the list.

"Yeah, whatever. Regardless, if that's why you're here, I went to-"

"I know why you went. And you promised me you'd be back after you figured out what all you needed to. You wouldn't let pride stand in the way. You promised," he accuses. I sigh, grasping the side of the couch for support.

"I know. But Tool, I can't… Barney-"

"Wants his daughter back. You didn't see him before you came along. He was different. He's my brother of different blood, but the man was damn near soulless. And you know, when he left you and your mother, he was the same way he is now," he explains, and I look at him. Well, more like glared. And he laughs. "You two even have the same look when I'm trying to help you."

"Look, even if you were right, I've caused him enough problems. I may be at peace with my problems and the blood on my hands, but I'm just not quite brave enough to go home," I confess. He opens his mouth to argue, but instead lets out a breath when he knows I won't budge.

"Fine. All I can say is, he's better off with you around. And for the love of god, of all things for you two to have in common, don't let your pride be one of them," he complains. I reach up on my tip toes and kiss his cheek fondly.

"Thank you, Tool," I say smiling. He shoves me off with a grunt, and I laugh.

"Yea yea, stop with the sucking up. I owe you a birthday present," he grins and I look at him in confusion.

"Tool, my birthday is in February. Why..?"

I trail off when he steps aside and I see his tattoo equipment set up around my living room.

"What is all this?" I ask.

"Well I've missed two of your birthdays. And I believe I still owe you sleeves," he grins.


	54. Chapter 54

_Barney's POV_

It had been a few months since anyone had mentioned her again, yet I could tell Thorn was getting worse. He felt guilty as shit, especially after I snapped at him so long ago. I hadn't meant to be so harsh, but I always went to a dark place each time she was involved.

As expected, I dreamt every night of the screams of her pain. Well, more like had nightmares. It was a normal concept now. Of every horror in my life, that topped everything. I'd die right now before ever hearing it again.

Tool was constantly on my ass. Trying to get me to fly down to Miami. But after all the shit I put her through, she wasn't coming back. Ever. And I didn't blame her one bit.

But still, Thorn was our team member and our team is family. He needed closure. He wouldn't go see her, as per respect of her wishes, but he just needed to see her once. To apologize. She had to come home on her own terms.

I hadn't seen her in years. It was an extremely weird feeling to see someone everyday and then just have them disappear. Death was easy, final. But the fact that I knew she was out there somewhere drove me mad. And it drove me mad enough to buy a plane ticket to Miami, where I now stood on the other side of the street outside her apartment complex.

I just needed to see her once, to let Thorn know that she was doing okay. And so I would have some closure as well. I stood in alley across from her apartment building, in the dark, the street only illuminated by the flickering street light. She chose a rougher side of town to live in. It was shocking, she could afford better. Especially since she took up a job at a convenience store.

I peer across the street keeping a keen eye out for her. She was a night owl just like me, I had no doubt she was out walking around. And just as I see her, my heart staggers in relief. My feet start moving forward before my brain can process what I'm going to say to her. But that's when I notice the way she was panting.

She was running, but it was more than just jogging. She looked scared, and it immediately causes me launch across the street. She looks around wildly checking behind her, and as she does, a hand emerges from the shadows and grabs her arm, pulling her into an alley roughly. I race after her, entering the alley, but I don't see her nor her attacker. Then I hear muffled screaming.

I race around the corner and see six men. Two are unconscious and four are cornering her. There's one man with a knife to her ribs behind her, and a hand on her mouth. Her face has a cut and bruise forming, and I can tell it was from the man holding her. He was wearing a ring with blood on it. Her fists were bruised and bloodied, and the two men on the ground were likely the unfortunate recipients of her onslaught. However, six to one is still an unfair fight. Until I showed up.

I immediately race forward, flipping one man onto his back. I throw another body into a third man and their heads crack against the tin of the dumpster behind me. Now it was just the man holding her. She looked at me with surprise and fear in her eyes.

"Step the fuck back man, I'll filet her fucking lungs," he pokes the knife into the flesh of her chest more. But now that there's only one man left, she rolls her eyes. She elbows the weak spot in his elbow and he drops the knife. She spins in his grasp while holding his wrist and shoves it back toward his chest and a cringeworthy snap. He falls to his knees and she kicks his head into the dumpster. She stands up taller, and looks at me.

"Hi," is all she says.

* * *

 _Brenna's POV_

"I don't have much up here, I usually get take-out. But I could make some coffee," I offer as I key into my apartment. I immediately walk toward the kitchen, avoiding his gaze.

"You should probably take care of your face. And knuckles. Do you have any first aid?" he asks me. Of course that would be his primary concern. It gave me hope that he wasn't mad at me.

"In the closet by the doors. Coffee or no?" I ask again.

"Coffee, please," he turns toward the closet and rummages around for the first aid kid while I start the pot. Then he sits down on my couch and motions to the spot in front of him.

"Come on, let me see your face," he urges, but I don't move. I don't even look at him.

"Brenna, please."

I sigh, forcing my feet forward begrudgingly. I sit down across from him, looking at me knees. He starts to dip a cotton ball into disinfectant, but stops and sighs.

"I can't see your face if you're sitting like that," he mutters, getting annoyed.

"I can do this myself," I reach for the cotton ball but he moves his hand back.

"Brenna, for once, just do as your told," he groans, definitely annoyed now. The last thing I wanted was to have this go south. But I was sabotaging it for myself.

"Did you know those guys?" he asks as he tilts my chin up toward the light.

"No. I usually go for my run at night. It's cooler and I like Miami night life better than during the day. They just chased me back. I outran them but they knew the alleyways better than I do," I curse to myself, thinking about how bad this could've been if Barney hadn't shown up. I hiss as the cotton ball touches my skin and stings.

"Sorry, kid. Let me see your hands," he says gently, taking a hand and dabs the cotton ball against the scrapes. "I like your sleeves," he smirks in a bittersweet way. I can tell he immediately knows it's Tool's work. I wonder if Tool told him he was coming down here or not.

"Thank you," I murmur. It's silent for a long time as he works. The coffee pot beeps and startles me.

"Black?" I ask, getting up swiftly. He doesn't say anything but I feel his eyes on me the entire time I'm in the kitchen. I couldn't turn around and face this, not right now. He was a mercenary, a soldier, and incredibly intense. But around me and when no one else was around, he was a caring father who was trying his best with his disappointing daughter.

"Look at me, Brenna," he asks softly. I stop my movements around the kitchen and turn my back toward the coffee pot. I shake my head, biting my lip down to keep it from trembling.

"No," I rasp in a voice so quiet that it even shocks me. I hear him get up from the couch and his boots on the tile floors behind me. He puts a hand gently on my arm.

"I can't keep pretending this is okay, kid. You being gone. I did it for two years. And now that you're in front of me, you can't even look at me. I need to know… is this because of… what I did?" he asks, and it finally causes me whirl around, panicked. I meet his eyes, and I see pain buried deep within his dark iris.

"No! I just needed time to get my head around everything. I told you it wasn't because of you. I told you that in my letter," I protest quickly, eager to shut down that train of thought in his mind.

"I had to ask… because I know you were in Luanda. I figured you were finally getting over all of this… but then you didn't come back. I had to know why. It was driving me mad," he explains, removing his hand from my arm. My lips part as I suck in a sharp breath.

"I wasn't sure…" I trail off, closing my eyes painfully and looking away.

"Wasn't sure of what?" he asks, trying to look at me from around my hair. He pulls it back from my face and meets me eyes, and looks stunned when he sees the tear that falls from my eye.

"I wasn't sure I'd be welcomed back," I choke, and it takes only but one second for him to pull me into his arms in a protective matter.

"You're a fucking moron," he says emotionally, and I can't help but laugh. It's his trademark saying when he's around me. He's crushing me to his chest so tightly I can barely breathe.

"I just wasn't sure if you'd want me back, after all the trouble I caused. Because at the end of the day, you wouldn't have even been there if it weren't for me. I caused you and the team a lot of leg work and frustration. Especially when I started trying to play both fields. And everything just got from bad to worse from there and I just felt… terrible," I admit. His grip tightens.

"Dad… I can't breathe," I wheeze, and he releases me, but keeps his hands on my arms.

"Of course I want you back. We all do. You made your own call because he was your friend and he was given the same shit deal of life that you were. You relate to people like that, you understand how they work. So you did what you had to do, I wouldn't listen, and now we're here. We both made terrible mistakes, Brenna. But David's fate… was unavoidable. His father would have found him and drugged him and used him the same way, whether Mia's death destroyed him or not."

"I know. At least, I know that now. I'm not going to say I don't feel guilty sometimes, but I know he's happier wherever he is."

"I'm glad you figured that out. I just wish you would have a little quicker," he smirks but it's sad, and his eyes are filled with a melancholy layer of grey that had been building up for two years.

"I know. I'm sorry. But like I said, I was sure you'd want me back," I shrug apologetically.

"You weren't exiled, for Christ's sake," he says adamantly. I suck on my bottom lip in worry.

"And Thorn?" I ask bitterly. Barney sighs.

"He's guilty, Brenna. He wants to apologize." I grit my teeth.

"Yea well he can shove that apology right up his-"

"I've missed you, so much," Barney cuts me off, laughing. I smile back, and before I can stop myself, I wrap my arms back around his torso.

"I missed you too, Dad," I murmur. He doesn't hug me back at first, but then he does. Tightly. We stay like that for a while, just standing in my kitchen. I don't dare move, because for once, it seemed like everything was going to be okay. And I knew if the moment ended, it may not be.

"I'm sorry, Brenna. More than you'll ever know," he says suddenly, but his apology feels deeper than the mess we're in. Like he's apologizing for ever being my dad. My grip around his torso tightens.

"Me too," I sigh, screwing my eyes shut.

"Can we go home now?" Barney asks, feigning aggravation. I giggle and shove him off.

"I didn't ask you to come get me," I smile, and he does back.

"I missed your laugh, Bren. And no, you didn't ask me to. But with our pride combined, I'd be 100 before I ever saw you again," he teases, shoving me right back. I laugh, grabbing the keys to my Jeep.

"Are you not going to pack up your apartment?" he asks me. I scoff.

"They can evict me. I'm going home."


	55. Chapter 55

_Barney's POV_

It was my turn to drive, so we had pulled over at a gas station to fill up yet again.

"If I was smart, I would've gotten you something that was a little more fuel efficient than this tank," I slapped her Jeep fondly and she smiles at it.

"It taken me all across Mexico and Canada in the last few years," she rubs the hood affectionately. She had put quite a few miles on it, but for the places she went, she needed a Jeep anyway.

"Yeah, I didn't keep track of everywhere you went but sometimes I checked in. You've done quite a lot of traveling," I comment. She shrugs.

"I liked it. I never got to go to Peru, but I most recently revisited Rome for the catacombs. They were… haunting. I loved it," she grins, staring past me while deep in memory. I shake my head in humor. Like me, she had a dark side. And I've finally accepted that I love all the ways she was similar to me.

"Yeah, you would, wouldn't you?" I ask as I fill up the tank.

"Wouldn't you?" she asks, raising an eyebrow knowingly. I chuckle.

"Yea, you're probably right. Run inside and grab some food, I'm starving," I gesture to the small gas station and she heads toward the doors. Thus far we only made it to a few miles out of Tallahassee but she had a rough night and was exhausted, so I offered to drive the rest of the way. And now that the sun was up she would probably want to sleep.

She comes back with two bags of food and a giant bag of BBQ kettle chips that she's already tore into. The bag is practically the size of her torso and it makes me laugh.

"You think that's enough food?" I ask her, still laughing. She looks down at the bags with a mouthful of chips.

"You said you were hungry," she mumbles over the food in her mouth. I shake my head in amusement and she climbs back into the Jeep.

It takes only about twenty minutes of driving for me to hear soft snores coming from the passenger seat. When I glance over, she's leaned the seat all the way back and curled up into a ball. I didn't like that she wasn't wearing her seatbelt, but I didn't have the heart to wake her. Didn't have the heart to wake her... Jesus, almost four years ago I wouldn't have gave a shit. Goddamn kid's turned me to mush... barely.

The A/C was on full blast due to the heat but of course, she was freezing. She's never satisfied unless it's at least eighty degrees. I chuckle quietly and gently lay my leather jacket across her body. She eventually relaxes and snuggles deeper into the seat.

I wasn't sure where we were going from here, whether this meant we could finally have a functioning father-daughter relationship. I doubted it, I was a mercenary and now she was too, though I think she may already be done with that. Not that I was complaining. Now we could go back to her nagging me to retire and I could go back to nagging her about going back to school. But even that sounded awful, our relationship back then wasn't great either. After all, I broke her rib during that time. And she dislocated my jaw. I snort, thinking about the surprising and powerful punch my girl packs. I definitely wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of another one of those punches now, especially since she's trained up further.

She had kept her physique pretty toned in the last two years, which I was glad for. I was worried she'd get too depressed, wouldn't eat. She had a tendency to do that. I could tell her sleeves were immediately Tool's work, meaning he must've visited her at some point, likely while I was on a job somewhere. I was pretty pissed he hasn't told me, but at the same time, I understand why didn't. It would've just pissed me off.

Her sleeves were every bit of her personality. On the left arm, there were five large roses with five dates in Roman numeral format under them. It takes me a minute to understand them, but I realize it's the date of death for every person she's ever lost. Their thorny vines go all the down her arm and across her hand. Various skulls would appear along the vine, almost emerging from the darkness it seemed. A beaded necklace trails down her arm between the rose vine and skulls. At the end of the necklace on her hand was a cross that read, "Omnes una manet nox". It made me smile, that she was embracing both her Latina and Italian roots by choosing a neutral ancient Latin quote meaning, "one night awaits everyone." It was easy to understand the significance of the quote and her arm. It was a tribute to those she had lost.

Her other arm was harder to understand. Her left arm was full of symbolic meaning that I could interpret. Her right arm was a mystery. On her bicep was a raven, which I could understand the meaning of due to her name. But everything else around it made little sense. Her arm had the world map, every country, trailing down her arm. The raven loomed overhead, almost as if it were watching the world. I guess it could have something to do with her travels. On her wrist, the map faded into a sunset with three birds flying toward the sun. In the distance, closer to the sunset, there were birds flying toward it as well. They were tattooed on her hand. Almost as if the three birds were joining the flock. The rest of her arm I could guess, but I didn't understand her wrist and hand.

I suppose I could ask her once she wakes up, but when I turn to her once more, her face looks troubled. She has her fist clenched around my jacket and her muscles have tensed once more. She twitches to her left briefly, her lips parting in distress. She makes an unintelligible comment.

"Brenna," I shake her gently, keeping my eyes on the road. But she doesn't wake. Instead, she jerks to the right, her hair flying across her face.

"No… no!" she mumbles in a cry. I shake her more violently.

"Brenna!" I shout. She flies forward, awake in her seat now, startled and frightened. I frown.

"Hey, it was just a dream. You're alright," I tell her. She takes a deep breath and smooths her hair down, looking around her. She looks exhausted.

"Where are we?" she mumbles.

"Gulfport, Mississippi. We've got an hour, hour and a half maybe left to go. You okay?" I ask her. She nods, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"I still get them sometimes. I never expected them to go away completely," she sighs, taking a drink of water. I nod, understanding.

"I get them sometimes too," I comment quietly. Not so much until recent years, and usually always of Brenna's tortured screams. I clench my jaw to keep from shuddering. She looks at me with a concerned expression.

"Are _you_ okay?" she asks. I don't say anything, I just remain blank and stoic. But I take her hand.

"Put your seatbelt back on," I tell her, and she snorts in amusement. Her reaction brings a ghost of a smile to my lips. I missed her attitude. She removes her hand from mine and puts her seatbelt back on.

"So was that what was bothering you?" she jokes. I smirk.

"There's always more, kid. But at least that's one thing," I tell her. She frowns at my lack of disclosure, but sits back in her seat.

"So… is there anything I've missed in the last two years?" she asks, both joking and a little nervous. I sigh. It was now or never.

"Your best friend is engaged."

"What?!" she yells, whipping her head around. I sigh.

"Hey, if you had something to say about it, you shouldn't have left," I warn her. But even to my ears, I sounded insensitive. She blinks briefly and looks out the window in silence. It stays that way for a while. Until I break.

"Brenna, I'm sorry, that sounded a lot worse than what I meant. I just meant-"

"I know what you meant. It's fine," she says so quietly I could barely hear. I roll my eyes, not toward her, but in regards to my idiotic lack of empathy.

"She doesn't know you're coming back, she'll be thrilled," I try again. Her hands knot themselves in her lap, and I know her well enough still to understand that's her sign of anxiety. I go to reach for her hand again but stop myself

"There's no reason to feel anxious. She understood why you left. Everyone did," I say calmly. She shakes her head.

"It's humiliating. I ran away and-"

"It's not humiliating at all. You left because you needed to get your head around the last four years. Now that you have, you can come back. What's so shameful about that?" I ask her. She leans back in her seat, remaining thoughtful. She looks down at her hand, the hand with the tattooed birds, then shoves her chin out.

"Nothing," she says in a definite tone. Whatever blockages she had about coming back, they were suddenly gone. It had something to do with her tattoo.

"I understand the left arm. But your right arm is confusing me. Does it have to do with your travels?" I ask her, and she smirks.

"Yes. And no. It has a lot of meanings," she murmurs. I wait for her to tell me more but she remains mute. I snort.

"Now I know how Christmas feels when he talks to me," I mutter, annoyed. She laughs, and it's a sound that soothes my soul. A sound I haven't heard in forever, that I didn't realize I missed so much. I take a deep breath and just let myself feel… better.

* * *

 _Brenna's POV_

We pull up to the garage and it's completely dark out again. I'd fallen asleep again and awoke to the sound of the garage door closing behind us. No one was in the garage, they must be in the parlor. My heart begins to flip flop in my chest as I remember the last time I was here. Barney turns to me.

"I don't know who's here. They have no idea you're with me though. They've been calling me nonstop after they realized I was gone though, so I imagine they've probably realized where I was. Though I doubt they'll expect you to follow me through that door," he chuckles, and I can sense his excitement. I try to smile in the darkness but can't manage it. He grasps my shoulder.

"It'll be fine, kid. They'll be happy to see you. I promise," he squeezes my shoulder and gets out of the car. I follow him suit, and he waits for me by the parlor entrance. He smirks.

"Walking at a glacial pace will not make this go away. Come on," he chuckles.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were actually excited about something," I mutter bitterly. He waves his hand toward the door in annoyance. I sigh and join his side.

"Ready?" he asks me.

"Nope."

He opens the door, and walks in but I don't immediately follow. Tool blocks his entry, preventing me from seeing who else was in the room.

"Barney, where have you been all day? It's rare I don't see…" Tool trails off when he sees me behind Barney, and a wide smile appears on his face. He practically pushes Barney out of the way and firmly grasps me in a large hug. He twirls me around into the room, laughing into my shoulder. I hear various astounded gasps around the room when people realize I'm here. When I turn toward the room, my face likely as red as a tomato, I see that literally everyone was here. The next person to grab me catches me by surprise and throws me up in the air like I'm two pounds. Gunnar.

"Hi Gunnar," I say shyly as he squeezes me to death. As soon as I'm sat down, Christmas pulls me into his arms.

"Good god, guys. I wasn't dead," I laugh.

"No, you just took off and I didn't see you for two years," I hear a familiar aggravated female voice say. I don't want to turn around because I don't know whether or not she's going to punch me or hug me.

"Mommy? Who is that?" I hear an unfamiliar voice ask. My eyes widen and I whirl around. A boy around two/three years old is hugging Reagan's leg. He has his mother's piercing blue eyes and I gasp. _Aiden._

"Is that…?"

"Yup. He grew up fast, didn't he?" Smilee says wistfully behind me. I couldn't help it, tears form quickly in my eyes. Tears of regret. A hand flies to my mouth to keep from sobbing. Reagan detached herself from her clinging son and rushes forward, gathering me in her arms.

"Hey, it's okay. It's fine. You did what you had to, it's alright," she soothes and I crush her to me tightly.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper. She shakes her head, and I can tell she's crying too.

"You're my sister. Always. Nothing you do can change that," she whispers so only I can hear. I nod.

"Mommy, is she your sister?" Aiden asks her. She smiles with tears in her eyes.

"Yes," she takes his hand, leading her over to me.

"Is she my aunt?" he asks, pointing at me.

"She's your godmother. And don't point," Smilee says behind me. Aiden lowers his hand.

"What's a godmother?" he asks. I smile through the tears in my eyes and kneel down to his level.

"It means your mommy and I are very good friends. I'm Brenna," I smile at him. He smiles back.

"My name is Aiden," he says proudly, as though learning to introduce himself is something to be proud of. And it was, because he's a child-genius. He was wearing a shirt with race cars on it and there were three on the ground behind him. I smile.

"Do you like cars?" I ask him. The largest, heart-squeezing smile spreads across his face.

"Yea, I was playing. Do you want to play too?" he asks. Smilee goes to stop him but I put a hand up. Introductions can wait until after I've played with my godson.

"Yes, I do. Which car are you?" I ask him. He races over to his cars and sits down on his knees. He picks up the red car.

"I'm always red," he grins.

"Aiden, share. She can be red if she wants," Smilee warns him. I grin up at him and raise an eyebrow.

"Someone's mastered the dad-role," I comment. He grins and winks at me, a gesture that surprises me.

"Do you want to be the red car?" Aiden offers it to me. I smile back at him.

"No, that's okay. I'll be the green car," I pick it up and sit next to him.

"Is green your favowite color?" he asks me, messing up his 'r'. He races the red car toward mine. I let him crash into me and I mimic a car explosion. He giggles.

"Yes, it is. What's yours?" I ask him.

"It's red. That's why I like the red wrace car," he says, crashing into mine again. I move the yellow car in front of the green to protect it, and he crashes into both of them.

"Oh no, not both of them!" I exclaim in a dramatic voice and he squeals with delight. He looks up at me with loving blue eyes full of trust and it fills my heart with an almost maternal form of pride. I could just imagine how Reagan feels.

* * *

 _Thorn's POV_

She hadn't even turned around to address the rest of the room as soon as she laid eyes on Aiden. It was amusing and wholesome to watch the duo play. She was so much different with him. Like a completely different person. Carefree, adoring, proud… almost mothering. It was different and beautiful.

I wanted us to talk, not to necessarily get her back, I just wanted us on good terms. I felt horrendously guilty for doing such a shitty thing on my own selfish terms. Eventually, Aiden wanders off to find his mom, who's in the kitchen. Brenna finally stands and turns around, and as soon as our eyes meet, it's like the first time I'm seeing her all over again.

Her green eyes were finally back to the same intense and alluring shade they were when we met. Her dark skin was glowing and radiant, her arms now covered with enchanting tattoos that snake beautifully down her arms. Her jean shorts and simple white t-shirt would be plain to anyone who looked at her but she looked sensational. Her clothes were tightly wrapped to her body, making it impossible to look anywhere but the seductive curve of her frame. And all I could think about was her in nothing but my t-shirt. Her jet black hair waved down her back and framed her slender waist in gentle black wisps of curl. My mind unwelcomely wanders off as I imagine my hands all over her naked skin.

She was looking at me and I was looking at her, and I could tell she was thinking about me the same way I was of her. I knew that heated expression well, it was usually reserved for me. Her eyes were full of sensual promise but they were guarded. She didn't trust me after what I did to her, and who could blame her?

Regardless, the world fades away as desire and tension was palpable between us. She feels it too, because I recognize the sudden nervous tug she does at her bottom lip with her teeth. She pulls her pink lower lip between her teeth, sucking on it gently. I swallow forcefully, trying to tear my gaze from hers, but I can't look away. And this whole exchange only took a matter of three seconds.

"I'm glad your back, Brenna," Luna embraces her quickly, breaking our spell. Barney was in the corner looking between Brenna and I, frowning. _Shit, he caught that._

"It feels good to be back. And weird. I spent less than two years here, and at least two years away and yet it feels like I've been coming here my whole life and I've been gone since last week," she sighs, but it's sad. She glances toward Aiden who's telling Reagan about his cars. They'd have to leave soon, it was a little late for Aiden to be awake.

"At least you managed to get away for most of the potty training and diaper changing," Smilee nudges her playfully. He's changed so much since Reagan, and on top of that, since Aiden started to grow. Aiden really was a little miracle and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous.

"I should've been here for all of it," she mumbles sadly. Barney joins her side and puts a hand on her shoulder.

"You've got nothing on me kid. You missed two years, I missed twenty," he jokes. Brenna must see something in his eyes that gives away he was only partially joking, and she spins around to hug him tightly. We'd been fighting with Barney, some of us for a lifetime, but Brenna knew that man better than all of us combined. She could read him.

Barney's face grows red, and he hugs her back. Eventually Aiden needs to sleep and they head out the door.

"When can I play with Bwenna again?" he asks, pointing at Brenna. Smilee gives him a scolding look.

"Aiden, I said no pointing," he tells him sternly.

"Whenever you want to. Bye Aiden," Brenna tells him, grinning ear to ear. Aiden smiles and waves. Reagan hugs Brenna one last time and the trio leaves the parlor. Then Brenna turns and faces the room.

"I'm going to steal my best friends kid," she whines, burying her face in her hands as though Aiden's cuteness is unbearable. Galgo laughs.

"I have a nephew back in Spain, an unbelievable little man he was. He could jump from one couch to another like some kind of spider. Unfortunately for him, he was terrified of spiders so each time I called him one, he would cry. But in Spain there's this spider called-"

"Galgo!" Toll Road complains.

"Oh please, like we aren't used to hearing your ear story?" Caesar pipes in, and Brenna hides her smile behind her hand.

"And what's wrong with the ear story?" Toll Road puffs out his chest in anger.

"It's repetitive," Doc grumps. He gets up from his spot in the couch and hugs Brenna fondly. "How're you, little mama?" he flirts with her. She giggles and shoves him off playfully, her giggle bringing a warm feeling to my heart.

I realize I haven't moved a muscle since she walked through the door and my whole world stopped. My muscles were getting stiff and sore from remaining rigid all night. I needed to talk to her, badly, and I was losing my window. Eventually people would be begin to leave, and since I was no longer her fiancé, it would seem incredibly creepy to wait around until she was alone. Barney sees me staring at her from across the room yet again and rolls his eyes.

"Hey Brenna, can you run outside and bring the trash can back in so we can throw away all these damn beer bottles?" Barney asks, gesturing to the room. Brenna scoffs and nods.

"Two seconds back, you already got me cleaning up your messes, boys," she pinches Docs arm and he grins at her. Barney gestures to his daughters back as she leaves the room.

"There. I've set it up. Go talk to her," he mutters unhappily. My lips part and I suck in a shark breath.

"Thank you, Barney," I tell him, because it's the nicest thing he's done for me in two years. Not that he had reason to. Brenna's been back all of two seconds and now he's already a much happier person.

I rise from my chair and follow her out quickly. When I get outside into the sticky hot air, she's walking around back to find the trash can that's actually already inside.

"Brenna, hey, wait!" I catch up to her and she freezes, not turning around.

"I have to get the trash can, Thorn," she says in an even and neutral tone that gives away nothing.

"It's inside, Barney must've-"

"That betraying bastard!" she hisses, catching on to what he did. I grin guiltily.

"To be fair, I didn't put him up to this."

She clenches her fists and turns around finally, her eyes boring into mine with incredible distrust. I hated it. I reach toward her but she steps back protectively.

"I'd rather not do this right now. I walked through that door like two hours ago," she sighs softly. I'm sympathetic to that, but I have to talk to her now.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. But I really need to talk to you," I tell her. She closes her eyes, sighing once more.

"What you did was really shitty, Thorn. Really fucking shitty. You walked away when I needed you most, you left me, you threw out my shit when I was in the hospital without telling me, and probably most of all, you never once showed me any kind of kindness. David has _just died._ And you walked out of that hospital room like it was nothing. So maybe you didn't love me like I thought you did, fine. At least I knew. But it was also two years ago… and I know why you did it. You just trying to protect yourself, from my decisions. I should know the feeling, I constantly did the same to you," she ranted, finishing off in a gentler tone. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, and I recognize the gesture as protecting herself. But all she did was confuse me more.

"So… I don't understand. Are you pissed at me?" I ask her. She had a right to be, I just needed a definite answer. She exhales through her nose.

"Yes. And no. I'm pissed at myself. But now I know," she mutters. I raise an eyebrow.

"Know what?"

"That we never would have worked. When you told me you loved me, you said you were worried this would end up like my mom and Barney. That 'mercs don't have a good relationship track record'. I should've listened to you," she says, trying to walk past me. I grab her wrist.

"Brenna, wait-"

"It's fine, Thorn. It really is. I'm glad, actually. That I figured this out before it got one of us killed. The decisions I make on my own drove you away, I get that, and I don't judge you for it. I forgive you for what happened. You thought I was dead for a moment or two there, for Christ's sake. I don't blame you one bit. But… you were also my best friend. And best friends don't walk away so coldly when you need them most of all," she tells me. I release her wrist in shock. She forgives me, which is good, but she's pissed? The only way my brain and body respond is to get defensive.

"What, like you didn't leave your best friend? For two years?" I snap haughtily. Bad choice. She rears back and slaps me across the face with a sickening smack that echoes off the alley walls.

"I did what I had to do to fix everything that was broken. To help fix what _you_ broke. You wanted to talk to me, to fix this, and yet you stand there and judge me for how I chose to fix what you broke. I even stood there and said I forgave you, you fucking prick. This. This is why I know it'll never work. Because not only did you abandon me and leave, but you completely betrayed my trust and yet still somehow try to blame that on me. _You_ broke _my_ trust, Thorn. It's no one's fault but your own. So now, yes, I forgive you. But I sure as shit don't trust you, and better yet, stay the hell away from me. Especially if this is how you manage an apology," she snaps, storming away. I hear the parlor door slam shut and I jump.

"Fuck, why did you go and say that, you moron?" I hiss to myself, closing my eyes in frustration. I didn't even get to apologize to her, instead I made some dumb comment to make the situation worse because she hit the nail on my pride.

What made it worse? All I could think about while she spoke was how I wanted to back her up against that alley wall and kiss her senseless.


	56. Chapter 56

_Sorry for the long awaited update. I wish I could say this was an exciting chapter, but it's all I could manage. I recently had a minor operation done, and unfortunately, it ended up being not-so-minor. So it's been a really rough two weeks. Anyway, enough of me, now that I'm recovering, I'll try to write more. It's all brainstormed, just about writing it all down now. Enjoy, and so sorry again!_

 _Brenna's POV_

" _Ugh! I can't believe that prick!"_ I bellow, pacing around my room in anger. Barney was standing at my door frame, leaning against it, with his arms crossed in amusement.

"I'm sorry kid, I didn't think he'd act so stupid. I honestly thought he was planning on apologizing," he explains. I glare at him.

"And you! You set me up!" I exclaim. He raises his hands in a sigh of defeat, though his face read obvious amusement. It made it hard to be seriously mad, especially considering he of all people was trying to be a matchmaker.

"You look so much like your mom when you're upset," he comments.

"You say that every time I'm upset," I grumble under my breath. He shrugs.

"Because it's true," he sighs, walking into the room. I sit down on my old bed in a slump, putting my elbows on my knees.

"Do you want some advice?" he asks me. I snort.

"You'll give it anyway," I mutter and he laughs.

"Take it easy on him. These last two years have been rough on him too. He didn't realize by how much until he saw you again," he explains. I sit up straight.

"You're defending him?" I ask incredulously. He puts a hand up to silence me.

"Easy, kid. I'm just saying. You didn't see the way he looked at you all night. His eyes never left you."

"Because he's guilty," I mutter.

"No, because he loves you," Barney counters, surprising me. I scoff, but my face heats up.

"Yeah, right. Because he's definitely shown me that."

"You accused him of never loving you. He's a guy. When guys get offended, they get defensive. We don't think when we get mad," he tells me.

"Yeah tell me about it," I laugh bitterly. He frowns.

"Just… give it some time. I want you two to at least get along," he says. I smirk.

"Are you seriously trying to give me boy advice?" I ask him with an eyebrow raised. He fights a smile and fails. He sits down next to me on the bed, putting an arm around my shoulders. I sigh and lean my head on his shoulder. I can feel his whole body tense at the gesture, but he eventually relaxes.

"I'm just trying to make sure you're happy," he says in a quieter tone.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna take off just because Thorn is a bitch," I mumble. He erupts with laughter.

"He's a bitch, huh?" he asks me after he's done laughing. I try to frown, but soon I'm joining him in laughter.

"Come downstairs with me, join Tool and I in a round of cards. I think he misses you playing. You're the only person worse than him," Barney teases. I shove him off the bed and chase him out of the room and down the stairs, trying to throw things at him.

"Are you guys fighting already?" Doc asks with an amused glance. I successfully manage to throw my flip flop at his arm, which hits and bounces of his forearm. He picks it up and threatens to throw it back at me. I duck in defense and grab a glass of what looks like water from the stand behind me.

"Put it down and or I'll throw water," I threaten through laughter. He raises the flip flop.

"Put down the water!" he yells.

"What, are you guys five?" Christmas chuckles. I turn to him with the water.

"Do you want to be next?" I ask with my eyes narrowed playfully. Next thing I know, I get a flip flop to the gut because I turned away from Barney, so I spin around and splash the whole cup of water on him. It surprises him, though I don't know why. I told him I would. He picks up a beer bottle.

"Nu-uh. That's beer. This was water. That's so not cool," I step back, ready to run backwards.

"You threw water at me!" he exclaims.

"You threw a flip flop at me!" I laugh, tears starting to pool in my eyes as I laugh too hard at his shocked expression. He narrows his eyes.

"I'm glad you find it amusing," he threatens, but his eyes are deeply amused as well. I step backward once more and turn to race toward the kitchen but he catches up to me and grabs my arm. He grabs a water bottle from the counter and dumps it on my head. I scream as the cold water trickles down my scalp.

"Apparently they are five," Tool mutters as he walks past. I grin and give him a giant hug, soaking him in the same water I was now covered in. "Ay, you brat! What did I do?"

A knock on the door brings our horsing around to an end. It was late, which only meant one thing. A job offer, and a serious one. Can't be made over the phone. Barney takes my forearm and drags me behind him. I roll my eyes.

"Go upstairs," he commands. I laugh.

"Yea, no. You taking job offers is the least of what I've seen," I tell him. His black eyes are no longer humorous.

"But it also could be that _I'm_ the job, for someone else," he tells me, inferring my worst fear. I shake my head.

"I'm staying right where I am," I say, planting my feet. Lee takes a gun and approaches the door slowly.

"Brenna, please, go upstairs," Barney pleads under his breath. His hand was still tightly around my forearm. I shake my head.

Lee opens the door, and upon seeing who it is, he lowers the gun. A man in a black suit walks through.

"Another agency spook," he mutters, annoyed.

"I have a job for Barney Ross," he says, producing a large packet. My heart sinks as Barney walks forward to take it. He glances at it and the man walks out without another word. As soon as the door is shut, he tosses the packet onto the couch carelessly.

"Aren't you going to read it?" I ask. He shrugs, not caring.

"I'm on vacation," he grumbles, sitting down at his chair to play cards. I grin ear to ear and take a spot next to him. He glances at me and then does a double take when he sees my smiling face.

"What?" he asks, smirking.

"Nothing. Just glad to be back. Lee, get over here and deal."

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, I hear laughing downstairs. I check my clock and see that it's noon. Yikes.

I quickly shower and realize all of my clothes were still here from two years ago. I smile and throw on some light blue shorts and a black t-shirt. I head downstairs to see what all the laughter is about. Then I freeze.

"Where on God's green earth did you get those?" I demand at Reagan, who's hysterically laughing on the couch with Tool. I was on the TV screen, as a seven year old, with a green cape tied around my neck and a jar of Peter Pan peanut butter.

"Remember those boxes you went and got from your mom's storage place up-state? I found these videos a while back, I wanted to watch them with you," Reagan sneers playfully. I tackle her to the couch, trying to get the remote.

"Reagan this isn't funny, those are private!" I yell at her, but I'm pried off of her by two large hands.

"Hang on, I want to see these," Barney chuckles, setting me on my feet like I'm a rag doll.

"Turn it up!" Tool snickers, and Reagan obliges. I put my face in my hands.

" _Brenna… what are you doing?" My mom asked me. I was jumping up and down on the couch repeatedly while eating Peter Pan peanut butter and I had it all over my face. My black hair was in a giant curly mess, I looked to be about 7._

" _I wanted to be Peter Pan!" I tell her. She's snickering behind the camera._

" _Uh-huh. And uh, how you are being Peter Pan?" she asked me. I sighed, looking annoyed by her constant questions._

" _If you eat Peter Pan peanut butter and jump off the couch with a green cape on, you'll be able to fly," I explained as though it were kindergarten-level common knowledge._

Everyone in the room howls with laughter at my expense. The video continues with me jumping off the couch several times trying to fly until I've fallen on my knees and skinned it up. It cuts to another video of me sitting down in the familiar time out chair my mom had for me when I was around ten years old. These were her shame videos she used to make to show to grandpa. Before he died anyway.

" _Alright, Brenna. Why are you in the chair?"_

 _I sigh in the video angrily, and glare at the camera with familiar pre-teen attitude._

Everyone in the room cackles again.

"It's the Ross-glare, but in baby form," Tool wheezes through laughter. I give him the famous glare but smirk. He had a point. I could see now that I looked quite similar to Barney when my hair was short. I suddenly realize which video this is and groan.

"Oh no, Reagan, turn it off," I plead. She shakes her head and turns up the video.

" _Niñita, don't make me get la chancla," she warns._

" _Mama, I don't want to-"_

" _Brenna, habla!" she snaps._

Barney whistles, laughing.

"I forgot how scary she was when she used her Spanish," he says wistfully.

"This isn't even the best part, wait for it," Reagan snickers.

" _What did you do, Brenna?" Mom asks again. I sighed._

" _He had it coming!" I moaned, throwing my hands up in the air. My right hook was bruised. Mom starts laughing behind the camera._

" _You've mentioned. But what did you do?"_

" _Arsean was threatening Tiff and Reagan, he kept throwing dirt in their eyes if they kept walking down the south hall instead of taking the other way. But it was raining! I got so sick of him acting like he ruled the place-"_

" _So you punched him?"_

" _Yes," I crossed my arms defensively. The camera angles down toward my bruised fist. It looked pretty nasty for a ten year old._

" _And uh, how many times did you punch him?" Mom laughs._

" _Just three times, I swear!" I exclaimed to keep from getting in trouble._

" _Relax, you're not in trouble. Well you're in some trouble. I just want to show this to your abuelo. He's gonna crack up," Mom turns off the camera._

"Were you a troublemaker?" Barney glares at me with his arms crossed. I open my mouth to defend myself but Reagan interrupts.

"Yes. Yes she was," she gloats, giving me a cheesy grin. I send her a middle finger from where I was leaning.

"I hope you didn't give your mom a hard time," he frowns. I smile and shook my head.

"She kept me in line. I've got scars to prove it," I joke and he snorts in disbelief.

"Sabrina was adamantly against violence. If you drove her to beat you with a flip flop, I doubt you were a saint," he accuses. I laugh.

"Brenna was the school brat. I'm positive at least once a week I'd hear her get pulled to the office," Reagan snickers. I frown.

"Only because if the slightest thing went wrong in that school, they'd blame me and call me to the office," I growl. Reagan nods, understanding my point. Barney smirks as though finding something secretly amusing, and turns back toward the TV.

We continue watching videos of me as a child and Reagan, until everyone's sides hurt from laughter. And it felt great.


	57. Chapter 57

_Brenna's POV_

"Are you sure? I mean, I'll understand if you'd rather have Luna or something," I tell Reagan, and she shakes her head.

"I got engaged a year ago. I was kind of stalling, hoping you'd show up to be my maid of honor," she squeaks through emotional tears. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't close to tears myself. I gather her in my arms.

"I'd be honored, Rey. I'm assuming little Aiden will be the ring bearer?" I ask in a cute voice and Aiden, who sits beside his mom, pouts.

"They're making me wear a funny shirt," he mumbles over an orange. He's covered in it, from his face, hands and arm, to his adorable little white polo. Reagan groans .

"How did you manage to destroy a whole t-shirt with an orange? I'll be right back," she picks him up and attaches him to her waist, walking him toward the bathroom. Smilee comes back in with a glass of water for me.

"So how've you been?" he asks me, sitting down on his couch.

"Great, actually. A lot better. I've only been back like a month but it feels a lot longer which it good. I've been house shopping, I think I found a place I like. I think I'd really love a place of my own, especially after seeing yours. It's lovely." I gesture around their house in Elmwood, it was almost like a plantation is was so huge.

"That's good. I'm glad. You deserve better than you've been given, Brenna," he says and it shocks me. He's usually shy and quiet, unless Reagan was around. In fact, I was pretty sure he didn't like me.

"T-thanks," I stammer. He chuckles.

"Having a kid changes you. Getting married will too… and… ok, don't be mad, Reagan was going to tell you today but I figured I would because he's my best man but-"

"Thorn is your best man," I sigh in a monotone voice. He nods sheepishly.

"Which means you'll have to dance with him," Reagan pipes up behind me. I groan into a pillow.

"You guys had a child before marriage, can't you skip that tradition?" I complain, and Reagan laughs, throwing a plastic toy at me.

"He's not a bad guy, Bren. He just did a bad thing. You forget, you were set to be married before us," Smilee says meaningfully. I roll my eyes.

"Thank god that didn't last," I mutter. Reagan sighs.

"Alright, alright. You're in a good mood, let's not ruin it. Let's talk wedding details," Reagan says after Aiden comes running out of the bathroom. I swoop down from the couch and grab him by the arms, and he squeals in surprise. I blow a raspberry on his cheek and giggle-screams.

"Can Bwenna and I go play?" he asks. I prop him up on my knee and hold out my hands. He places his little hands in mine, and I start to dance using his arms. He laughs.

"Maybe later, I've gotta help your mommy with some things," I tell him.

"What things?" he asks. I grin. He never was satisfied, he always had a curious mind.

"Hey, Brenna, we're getting a sitter for tonight and we're all going out to Rusty's. You wanna come?" Smilee asks. I grin.

"Why not?" I say.

"Good, you may as well stay here until then because there's nothing you own that'll get you free drinks in Rusty's," Reagan winks at me. I laugh and nod.

"Okay, fine, fair play. I get first pick on whatever you try to dress me in though," I tease.

* * *

Later on that night, Reagan had teased my hair up to high heaven and put me in something so skimpy, for my taste, that I tried to back out of going twice. But then she told me Thorn supposedly had a new girlfriend he was taking, and she wanted me to look good in case she was pretty. I was in a blood red backless halter top with black waist high shorts. My heels pushed me well over 5'10 and put me at 6'1, making me tower over any potential date tonight but whatever. I was going to go out with my best friend to celebrate her wedding and my maid of honor status. As well as a certain someone's birthday, but that was a secret.

"You realize I don't care, right? He and I happened two years ago."

"Oh I know you don't care. But I do. I was rooting for you two, and now I've lost all hope because he's moved on to some skimpy bitch. And I don't want her judgemental eyes all over you when you walk up in there with jeans and a t shirt on," Reagan states. I laugh.

"You realize I can pretty much snap someone's spine? I can handle myself," I wheeze through tears of laughter. She smiles.

"It's good to hear you laugh this hard again, Brenna," she hugs my waist and Smilee holds the door open for us.

"Well finally!" I hear a familiar Luandan accent harp from the sidewalk. I squeal and race forward in my heels, gripping Mira in a tight embrace. Zane is behind her.

"Oh my god! I can't believe you're here!" I laugh, spinning around. I release her and grip Zane with one arm while keeping my hand on Mira. Happy tears form in my eyes as I smile over his shoulder.

"We should've come sooner. And then you left, and we weren't sure you were ready to see anyone after..."

Mira trails off and her bottom lip trembles in obvious pain. I stop smiling and take her hand firmly, sadder tears beginning to leak from my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mira. I should've tried harder, I could've done more-"

"Are you joking? Brenna, you did everything you could. More than you could. We didn't expect you to give your life to save his, and you definitely would have if things had turned out differently. And then we would've lost you both. He meant the world to us, and you, but we never expected you to go so far. Especially for us," Zane comments, grasping my shoulder. He wipes a tear from my face and takes Mira's hand lovingly.

"I never acted out of guilt. He _deserved_ a better chance than what he got. It's unfair," I close my eyes painfully. Mira takes my other hand.

"He did. But so do you. We did all we could. But Brenna… we lost him long before your dad shot him. And you know that," she says. A tear falls from my eye.

"I know. At least, now I do. You guys don't hate Barney for that, do you?" I ask them. They shake their heads sadly.

"Very much so, at first. As I imagine you did. But the beauty of hindsight is a wonderful thing. The situation to anyone looked bad. You were nearly beaten to death. Barney is your father, he did what he had to do to save his daughter," Zane admits. I smile, because he's right. It's what Barney has always done. He's always protected me, and somehow he still thought he was a shitty dad.

"Let's go get drunk, Ross," Smilee winks at me and we all pile into Reagan's car.

When we get to Rusty's, all the familiar bikes are parked out front. I'm eager to get inside because tonight we were celebrating a different day. Granted no one else knew what we were celebrating and I'm sure the man of the hour wants to keep it that way.

"There they are!" I hear Tool's raspy voice shout from the bar. I've never actually been here before, it felt weird. This was where the guys went after a successful job, and I wasn't a mercenary… anymore. Technically. But the whole joint was filled to the brim with Expendables and allies alike.

"So this is Barney's daughter?" an older man wearing a fisherman's hat and vest says as he looks at me. I look at Lee who's just grinning ear to ear.

"The one and only. Hopefully," Lee winks playfully at me.

"Given my dads track record of long lost children, I wouldn't joke about that," I glare at him. The man next to him laughs.

"Yup, that's his kid alright. Could tell by the glare," he hollers.

"Brenna, meet Bonaparte. Bonaparte, this is Brenna Ross," Lee introduces. He sticks a hand forward and I shake it respectfully.

"Nice to meet you, Bonaparte," I tell him. I feel a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"No need to try and recruit this one, Bonaparte. She's already a badass," I hear Gunnar chuckle drunkenly. I frown at his flask and narrow my eyes at him. I look around the room and spot his lady, Vera, eyeing his flask with the same amount of worry.

"And you'd do well to remember that. Ease up on the booze, will ya? I ain't taking your ass home if you get kicked out," I mutter and elbow him gently. He grunts and Bonaparte and Lee laugh.

"Yup. Definitely his kid," Lee orders me a beer and hands it over. I take it gladly and look around for Barney.

"Where is he anyway?" I ask.

"Right here. Hey kid," he smiles slightly, and I whirl around to throw my arms around him. He chuckles.

"Alright, alright. What's with the mush?" he asks. I look around to make sure no one is looking at us. Everyone seems to have gone their own way to do separate things. Tool is flirting with a woman about fifteen years his junior, usually his style. Gunnar has Caesar, Doc, Toll Road, and Lee doing shots with an apprehensive Lace on Lee's knee. I give her a small wave and she gives one back. Luna, Smilee, Mars, and Reagan have taken over the karaoke machine. Galgo and Bonaparte are deep in conversation though it looks like Bonaparte would rather be walking on hot coals. Mira and Zane were canoodling in the corner. I didn't see Thorn, which was odd, but I turn back to Barney with a wide grin.

"Happy birthday," I smile. He puts his finger to his mouth with a faux glare.

"How did you figure that out?" he demands lowly.

"You're my dad. I should've figured it out a long time ago, it's been four years," I mutter. He chuckles and slaps my shoulder.

"It's _barely_ been two. You were gone for two out of the four and then kidnapped for a collective six months. So more like a year and a half," he teases. I frown sadly, because he's right. His face falls. "Hey, that was a joke. I'm sorry. Thanks for the birthday wishes," he puts an arm around me and I shake my head.

"Oh, I got you more than just wishes," I smirk and take an arrogant slug of my beer. Barney narrows his eyes.

"What?"

"Oh, and _I'M_ the one who can't accept birthday presents?" I raise an eyebrow. He scoffs and shakes his head.

"What did you do?" he groans. I pull out a very small wrapped box. He turns his back to the room sharply.

"Did you have to make it _look_ like a birthday present?" he hisses. I giggle and shove his arm.

"Quit being an ass and open it," I laugh, and he finally smiles at me. He rips open the package and his smile falls when he lifts the box lid.

Inside was an personalized engraved dog tag to add to his own chain. He picked it up gently and read the inscription. Then he looks at me with a smile.

"You brat," he accuses and I laugh, and we embrace quickly. My eyes flash briefly to the tag.

 _To my dad-_

 _You'll always be my hero. And I'll always have your back. Thank you for always saving mine._

 _Brenna_

"I figure you can add it to your chain. I wanted me with you wherever you are in the world, whether you like it or not," I grin proudly. He keeps a strong hand tightly around my shoulder. He pulls out his tags and puts mine behind it. He looks at the inscription one last time before putting it behind his shirt again.

"Thanks, kid," he smiles into his beer and I before I can respond, Reagan's arm is around me.

"Come sing with us," she says, winded. I raise my eyebrows at her.

"Not a chance," I laugh.

"Come on, Brenna. You're pretty much the only one of all of us with a set of pipes," Luna elbows me.

"I can vouch for that," Mira shouts from across the room with a wicked grin.

"The answer is no," I call out to her with a glare.

"If I buy you two Tequila shots, will you sing with us?" Reagan asks. I laugh.

"After two Tequila shots, you'd have to pry me off the mic. My tolerance is shit now. I don't drink much anymore," I warn her. She tugs on my arm.

"Pleeease," she begs. I glare at her to warn her off.

"Aw shit," I hear Barney mumble under his breath. I follow his gaze and he's looking at Thorn who's just walked in with a gorgeous blonde girl with porcelain perfect skin and all legs clinging to his arm. I sigh.

"It's not a big deal, Dad. I don't care," I tell him. He looks at me doubtfully.

"We weren't even together as long as we've been apart. Really. It's okay," I smile at Barney to reassure him and I think he's genuinely surprised at my honesty. I hear a loud laugh and turn as Thorn and his new girlfriend approach.

"Hey guys. Sorry we're late. This is Vanessa," he introduces. We all make our acquaintances, including me, but she ignores my smile and nod. Reagan and I share a look. Thorn pulls her away to meet everyone else. Barney whistles lowly. I glare at him.

"What?" I snap.

"That couldn't have been more awkward if he tried. And he did try," Barney mumbles. Our eyes meet and we both burst out laughing as a live band takes over the stage and begins to play some old timey rock.

"For the record, I like you way more," I hear Tool say behind me. I grin at him.

"Then prove it, if you're done flirting with Gossip Girl over there," I tease and grab his forearms. I drag him toward the dance floor where people have gathered to dance and listen to the band. I hear Barney and Reagan laugh and Tool rolls his eyes as we dance and laugh. I barely notice what's going on around me because I'm having so much fun and Tool swings me into someone's back.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I laugh, turning around to see who it is. I swung into Thorn and Vanessa dancing and she glares at me.

"Yea, I bet you are," she scoffs and reclaims her date. Thorn's face heats in obvious annoyance, but I'm not sure if it's at me or her. I turn back to Tool barely containing my own laughter.

"You're gonna get me in trouble if you don't stop swinging me so wide," I giggle and he swings me out again. I laugh freely and he smiles.

"I haven't seen you laugh this much since I've known you," he observes.

"And sober," I wink and he takes his turn to chuckle.

"Well, whatever you're drunk on now, keep it up. I like you better this way," he teases.


	58. Chapter 58

_Brenna's POV_

"Have fun?" Barney asks over my shoulder as I approach the bar after a slow song finally started.

"Oh god. My feet felt better in Kazakhstan than they do now. Why do I let Reagan stuff me in these things," I complain with a laugh. He chuckles and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink," he says over the music.

"Barney! Some drunk asshole hit your bike outside. Might wanna go out and check on them!" Doc shouts over to us.

"What the fuck?" Barney snarls and speeds off toward the door. "I'll meet you at the bar," he shouts back to me when he realizes he left me in the middle of the floor. I grin and roll my eyes heavenward, knowing whoever damaged his bike may not live to see the morning. I turn and make my way to the bar. I sit on a stool by myself at the very end and look out over the sea of slow dancing bodies. Lace and Lee were dancing, Reagan and Smilee, Vera and Gunnar, Mira and Zane, Tool finally found himself a lady, and lastly, Thorn and Vanessa.

Ice blasts into my chest like an unexpected dagger as I see the way they look at each other when they dance. It wasn't love, not yet. It was just… pure. And they obviously did adore each other. But that look used to be reserved for me. It wasn't jealousy that shrouds my heart in an arctic freeze, it was heartbreak. I didn't realize it until seeing them dance together. And I definitely didn't realize that I missed him like all hell. It was bittersweet. He was obviously happy, and I just wish I could've been the one to make him that happy. But his happiness, through my spite, was all I could care about. Even if he was being a little petulant.

"Need a drink?" the bartender about my age asks as he cleans a glass. I wave him off and he smirks.

"What if it was on the house?"

I tear my eyes from Thorn and Vanessa to look at him and I'm met with warm brown eyes that nearly melt the ice that froze my core moments ago. His black hair was cut and styled in an extremely slick fade-cut, and he wore a button down white shirt with dark jeans and a black apron. His stubble was surprisingly sexy as it spiked down his angular jawline. He continues to give me a lopsided and sexy grin that admittedly makes my heart pump, however I notice a small dimple on his right cheek as he smiles. His face was so smooth and model-like, the dimple stands out on his dark skin. But it was almost like a cherry on top, as Reagan would put it. However attractive he may be, I narrow my eyes.

"What's the catch?" I ask. He grins.

"No catch. What'll it be?" he asks. I turn toward the bar in my chair.

"Tequila shot. Strongest you have," I tell him. He whistles.

"My kind of girl," he winks. I roll my eyes and look back out onto the dance floor in anguish as he gets my shot. I hear two clinks on the bar behind me to signal it was ready. But there's two shots.

"I only need the one," I tell him. He gives me another lopsided grin.

"You sure?" he asks knowingly. I turn toward him in interest and narrow my eyes even further.

"What makes you think I need two?" I demand. He lets out a seductive chuckle and gestures to the dance floor.

"I'm a bartender. I know a woman scorned when I see one," he winks. I down my shot angrily.

"I'm not scorned," I snap. He just grins again and takes the second shot, and guns it down.

"No? So you're spoken for then?" he asks. I glare at him.

"Yes," I say simply. He shakes his head.

"No you're not. You wouldn't be here alone if you were. This bar is full of mercenaries. I know better than to flirt with any girl that wanders up here," he says cockily. I was shocked he knew about the occupants of the bar, but then again, I suppose they've been coming here since I was a baby. Nevertheless, I toss my hair over my shoulder in annoyance.

"And yet here we are. And you just said you know a woman scorned when you see one. So which am I to you? Scorned or spoken for? Or do you just not care if I am?" I ask, annoyed. He leans across the bar further, almost in my personal space.

"You didn't let me finish. I know better than to flirt with any girl that wanders up here. But I happen to know for a fact you were dancing with the old man out there all night and no one else, and he seems pretty preoccupied to me," he gestures to Tool. I follow his look and Tool is all hands with a woman who was equally handsy. I finally give in and let the bartender make me laugh.

"How did you know-"

"Because I've been watching you," he says lowly, in a tone of voice that makes me feel flushed.

"Why me?" I ask breathily, genuinely confused. He chuckles.

"I heard your laugh. I liked the sound of it. And each time you laughed, I looked. And you've been doing a lot of it," he smiles. I give him a smile back and gesture for him to fill my shot class again. He grins widely.

"I'm Darren. You?" he introduces as he pours again.

"I'm scorned, remember?" I give him a knowing look and take my shot. He smirks and shakes his head.

"You always make it this hard for guys to talk to you?" he asks.

"You've got that answer already," I remind him once more and look out at the dance floor with a sigh. After all, they were his words. Not mine. Darren follows my gaze.

"Ah. And the ex-lover is here with his new lady. No story is ever not cliche, is it?" he asks, deep in thought. I frown.

"Gee thanks," I grumble. He laughs.

"Don't take it personally. So what happened? Cheat on you? Dump you for her?" he asks bluntly. My turn to smirk.

"Anyone ever tell you that you can be a little straight forward?" I ask.

"All the time. I asked you a question first."

I sigh.

"No and no."

He awaits an answer and I know he won't leave me alone until he gets one.

"Fine. He dumped me in the hospital after I got backed from being kidnapped and tortured and watching my best friend die. How's that for your cliche?" I ask. Darren blanches momentarily and then he whistles.

"Well fuck. You may as well take the whole damn bottle," he shoves the Tequila bottle toward me and I let my head back and laugh. I look out toward the dance floor again and see Reagan is watching me with peaked curiosity about who I'm talking to. She gives me a knowing look and I return hers with a glare.

"How long ago was this?" he asks.

"Two years. I left to travel some and get my head out of my ass and when I came back he tried to make things right. But he ended up just being a dick. And I miss him like crazy… but I can never see myself with him again because I'll never trust him again," I sigh. Darren nods in an understanding way.

"Gotcha. I'm guessing he told you all kinds of things about never leaving you and promising no matter what, he's always love you, blah blah blah?" he asks, hitting the head right on the nail. I pour myself another shot. I feel now why he's giving me free liquor. So I'll talk to him. And give him a big tip to make up for it.

"Yup. You know, this is a long way to go for a $20 tip," I joke, smirking at him. He leans further across the bar now, definitely into my personal space this time, and bores into my eyes. And to put the cherry on top, flashes me that sexy crooked grin.

"A twenty isn't the number I'm after, honey," he rasps lowly. I feel my face flush as I meet his eyes. I can feel the now-so-ever-present chemistry between us. I giggle suddenly and lean back.

"How many girls have fallen for that one?" I ask. He shakes his head, both highly amused and disappointed.

"Admittedly, too many," he jokes. I laugh and push my shot glass back toward him to signal I was done. He takes it and brings me back a bottle of water.

"So what's your story, anyway? I mean obviously it's pretty fucked up. But you said you left to get your head out of your ass. You're back, so I'm assuming you did. But yet here you are alone at a bar talking to a loser while you watch all your friends have all the fun," he comments. I snort.

"Way to summarize my shitty and boring life," I laugh bitterly. He chuckles.

"Oh come on, humor me. You know how to laugh and have a good time but yet this is where you choose to be," he points out. I sigh.

"I've got my head out of my ass. Doesn't mean I know quite how to live the way I did years ago. I was so much more… free. And wild. I'd love nothing more than to be that girl again," I put my chin in my hand sadly. He leans toward me once more.

"So _be_ that girl again," he implores. I shake my head.

"I don't think it's that simple. I don't remember how," I mumble.

"I could show you how, again," he flirts. I laugh.

"Yeah, well, you show me something good and we'll talk," I scoff doubtfully. He grins.

"I'm not known to back down from a challenge," he gloats, winking at me. My face grows hot and I'm thankful when I hear Doc call out.

"Hey kid! Come over here and settle a bet!" I hear Doc shout. I grin and give him a thumbs up.

"I'm afraid the showing will have to wait until another time," I tell him, smirking as I get up. He meets my smile.

"I'll hold you to it. At least tell me your name," he asks, almost begging. I grin cockily.

"Scorned, remember?" I wink at him and turn away to meet up with Doc. I hear his low chuckle as I saunter away.

"What was with all the fireworks going off up there?" Caesar hollers, fanning himself with his hat. I roll my eyes.

"Oh whatever. What am I settling?" I demand, and Doc starts to explain. But my eyes drift occasionally to the sexy bartender behind the counter who's looking at me from head to toe as well. With a lot more than just names on his mind.


	59. Chapter 59

_Brenna's POV_

Darren makes last call at the bar and I look around for Barney. He's nowhere in sight, since the bike incident. It worries me, so stand to my feet and head toward the door. I pass by Lee.

"Is my dad still outside?" I ask Lee who's towing his drunk wife toward the door. He looks around and shrugs.

"Must be, probably had to call the police," he mutters. I nod and head outside. As expected, a cop car is parked out front and across the street. Barney's bike was knocked over with little damage done to it, but of course, his bike was technically his first baby. The drunk couple is across the street trying to belligerently defend their actions and police are growing tired of their attitude. They'd definitely be in trouble for attempting to drive in their state. I walk along side Rusty's to get to the crosswalk so I could get to Barney, but when I pass the alleyway, something catches my eye. I back up and look down the alley and my heart stops.

Thorn has Vanessa backed up against a wall, kissing her senseless, with a lot more than kissing clearly in his intentions for tonight. Thorn suddenly opens one eye as if detecting being watched and stops kissing her when he sees me. But I don't miss the deeply satisfied look in his eyes of being caught by me. He really _was_ playing a game. One I wasn't willing to play with him.

Embarrassed, I whip my head back around and turn back to the bar quickly. I feel hot tears threaten my vision, and as soon as I lay a hand on the door handle, I push them back angrily. If this is how he wanted things, fine. I could very easily go back to ignoring him. Done. Eventually this pain would fade, as all pain does. I would just have to learn to live with it.

"You okay, Bren? You look like you're ready to kill," Reagan asks when I walk back inside the nearly deserted bar. I nod once but keep my jaw clenched. Everyone caught my tense look and looks behind me as if the trouble was to follow.

"You get the same damn intense look your father gets when he's pissed off," Bonaparte wonders aloud as if creeped out by the eerily similarities. I give him a tight smile because it's all I can manage. I was _so tired_ of "learning to live with it". Pain was all too familiar with my life. I was sick, so so sick, of just saying it is what it is. That's how I lost the wild side of me after high school. Mom died, and I let the pain change me.

The door opens once more and Vanessa and Thorn walk through. Vanessa looks pissed, at him or me, I really couldn't care. I was growing tired of her constant rudeness, I've been nothing but kind to her. But I avert my gaze before either one of them see me.

"Are you sure? You also kind of look… disgusted," Smilee asks, but he's looking over my shoulder at Thorn. I give him a look and tells my group all they need to know. Mira gives me a sympathetic smile.

"I don't need the pity," I mumble and lean up against a booth with my arms crossed. What I needed was to stop letting pain and heartache change me every time it happened.

"Smilee, have you seen Barney? I want to ask him something," Thorn asks behind me. I close my eyes angrily, knowing what this was about to turn into. Smilee looks at him, confused.

"Uhm, why would I know? Ask his daughter," Smilee says, and Reagan elbows him. She hisses something under her breath that lets Smilee know he's now in trouble. He looks at me with a guilty expression after realizing what he did.

"Brenna?" Thorn asks, and I know this was his tactic all along. To see my face. To see my pain. It wasn't there. I was over it, I was over this. I turn around, swallowing my pride forcefully.

"Someone hit his bike. He's with the police outside. Was pretty sure you saw that," I call him out in a lowkey way and he narrows his eyes.

"Must've missed it," he snaps, clearly not satisfied with my response. I roll my eyes and catch Darren's eye over my shoulder. He's staring at me and Thorn, trying to decide if he needs to break this up. He looks at me with obvious concern and gives me a questioning nod. I give him a thumbs up back. He nods and reluctantly starts to wipe down the front of the bar and stools. It was kind of sweet, how much he cared. I turn back to Reagan.

"You and that bartender have been flirting all night. Don't think I haven't noticed," she says louder than necessary, on purpose, so Thorn could hear. I grin at her, rolling my eyes.

"That's all it's been and that's all it will stay," I tell her with a laugh. She frowns.

"You don't have to shut yourself down just because he hasn't. It doesn't make you a bad person for being the one to move on first, and I mean _actually_ move on. Not Thorn's side-action, classic rebound bullshit," she says under her breath. I laugh loudly. Lord, I loved her so much.

But she was right. Why was I stopping myself from moving on? I was talking a good talk about letting all this go, about not letting pain rule my head, but I always said things like that when I felt better. When was the action going to be? When would I finally start acting the way I felt?

I look at Darren, who's still wiping down the bar surface in front of the stools and I grin. She was right. It was time to find that girl long lost from all those years ago. Starting with making possibly the worst and thoughtless decision I've made in recent memory.

"You're right. But I think I'm allowed to make one unhealthy decision, and I think I'm looking right at it," I tell her, and hand her my purse for safe keeping. She follows my eyes and hers widen.

"What? Wait! What are you doing?" she hisses at me as I walk away, and toward Darren. I felt everyone's eyes on me. Darren sees me coming from a mile away and grins crookedly at me.

"Well well. Back to my side of the tracks already, Scorned?" he teases.

"The name is Brenna, you dork," I finish making my way over to him and throw my arms around his neck. I don't even finish getting up on my tip toes, impressive considering the heels, before he's met me halfway and presses his lips to mine eagerly. He drops his rag and snakes one arm around my waist and weaves his other hand into my hair. Unexpected passion erupts between our lips and he presses me to his body tightly. The world almost fades away around us if I didn't hear my family behind me whistling and hooping at me. He breaks off the kiss with a staggering lopsided smile.

"So what was that about showing me something good?" I ask, grinning up at his dangerously sexy face. I know now why he's a bartender, he probably rolls in tips with that jawline.

"Only if you can handle it," he teases, his hand tightening around my waist.

"I'm a capable girl," I smirk, and he grasps my hand eagerly.

"Well we're in the right city to show you something good. And the right time of morning. If you can keep up as well as you say," he continues to tease. I push up on my tip toes and meet his lips once more. When I pull back, he's grinning.

"Hey Frank! You're on your own tonight, you owe me," Darren shouts back to the other bartender who looks less than pleased but says nothing. He grasps my hand tightly. "Okay, let's see what you've got."

He grabs his bag from the door and a motorcycle helmet. I grin.

"Of course you ride. You're a bartender, you ride a motorcycle-"

"I'm the worst nightmare for any girls father," he winks at me. _Oh, he has no idea._ He sets a second helmet on my head and straps it on.

I look over to my family who's gawking at me, bewildered. I wink at them. I don't miss the disgusted face Thorn has adopted as well, expressing the same feelings I felt toward him. And Vanessa, who's borderline murderous toward him. And lastly, I look at Reagan.

"Call you later," I call out to her and let Darren drag me out the door. I quickly mount the motorcycle he's on before Barney sees me and we ride out into the deserted downtown streets. As we approach the French Quarter, the city expectantly comes alive again and not like its two in the morning.

"The french quarter? I'm a native Orleanian, you've gotta do better than that," I shout over the humid wind that whips around us. My arms are clutches around his abdomen and I feel his body shake as he laughs.

"Relax. We're going past that. Just out of town," he says mysteriously.

"Do I get to know the plan?" I ask.

"First step of living life good? Stop worrying so much. And stop asking so many questions," he yells back. I scoff quietly. I was already taking a huge risk getting on the back of a strangers motorcycle. Asking question was the only thing that kept me alive this long. "You're thinking too much!"

"What?" I shout back.

"I can tell! You're thinking too much! You need to trust me," he yells back. There's about a million sarcastic responses I could come up with regarding that, but instead, I wrap my arms around his torso tighter and let the wind kiss my face as we head to whatever hell he's concocted.


	60. Chapter 60

**_Hey guys. I know, I suck. I was only released from the hospital last week, things ended up pretty scary there for a while, I kind of felt like Brenna. Which would have sucked, I need to finish this story for myself and for you! Just really quick, I wanted to thank my readers for the encouraging reviews to keep writing. I wish you could see the smile I get when I read a good review. Secondly, thank you all for the get well wishes. I know I suck at keeping this going, but I promise, this story isn't near done and nor will I ever quit writing it. I love it too much, plus, the announcement (is it official or unofficial, I'm still kind of confused) of Expendables 4 has me pumped. Anyway, sorry for the pre-narrative. Enjoy!_**

 ** _P.S Shout out to Diane for always leaving reviews, wowza. You rock!_**

* * *

 _Thorn's POV_

"What? Wait! What are you doing?" Reagan's alarmed tone causes everyone to whip their heads around. She's staring after her best friend's back as she struts, literally struts, away from her with determined purpose. She walks directly toward the bartender with which she's been talking to, or rather, been flirting with, all night. He grins some douchelike grin and says something to her. I don't hear what it is nor her response, but she doesn't stop walking until her arms fly around his neck. The fucker doesn't even hesitate and presses his eager-ass lips to hers with passionate need. He winds his arm tightly around her slender waist and the other grips her black hair. I can see they're both smiling through their intense kiss, and suddenly, everyone around me starts to whistle and hoop at them. I glare at the group, and Vanessa catches it. I ignore her and go back to gawking at Brenna, in the arms of another man. I underestimated how it would make me feel, not to mention her ability for payback. I don't know why I thought this stupid and petty revenge plot would be closure for me. It wasn't fair to Vanessa, whom I actually liked, nor Brenna.

I felt stupid. Of course she could've easily shown she's just as capable of moving on. She's fucking gorgeous, and that's what makes this so much harder. Especially tonight, with her short high-waisted shorts and halter top that showed off way too much skin for a bar filled with primarily men. Barney's been sending different men glares and warnings all night to stay away from her, and my guess is that Brenna had no clue. And admittedly, so was I. Each time I turned Vanessa while we danced, I was able to get a clear view of Brenna and the bartender flirting. At times she looked uncomfortable and it took everything I had not to go over and tell him to fuck off. But then he began to make her laugh. A hard task to do, and I knew it was over once he did. And then I accidentally called Vanessa by Brenna during our dance and pissed her off to all hell. She stormed out and I met up with her in the alley and to get her to stop ranting, I backed her up against the alley wall and kissed her senseless. She enjoyed it, but there was no fireworks for me. Not the way it felt when I kissed Brenna. And she could tell when I broke it off and saw Brenna. I was definitely in the doghouse for the night.

And now her lips are pressed against another. It took everything I had not to rip him to shreds. They finally pull apart and he calls back to the other bartender saying he was leaving.

 _Wait. What._

Hell fucking no was she leaving with that sleazeball. She just fucking met him, she never trusts anyone that easily. Why was he so special? Why was she putting herself in harm's way like this? To torment me? It wasn't working, I was just beyond pissed at her. I'm reminded of why we broke up, she puts little thought into her own safety. I growl and step forward but Lee puts a hand on my shoulder before Vanessa notices, who's thankfully just as fascinated by this exchange.

The sleazy fucker takes her hand as if he knows her and hauls her over to the door where he fastens a helmet over her head. I hear her giggle and sadness grips my heart. I used to be the one reserved for that laugh. I shake myself. I was pissed at her. She was being reckless on purpose to get back at me. It was petty and childish.

"Call you later!" she shouts over to Reagan, and briefly catches my eye. But then she was gone. I roll my eyes.

"What an idiot," I mutter and Vanessa approves of my choice of words, probably just glad to see that I was upset with Brenna. She was a horrible jealous type, but then again, so was I. Brenna didn't seem to be, she wasn't acting out of rebound, I now realize. It was something else, and it made this so much worse.

"That's my best friend you're talking about pal," Reagan barks at me, surprising us all.

"Yeah? Well maybe you should've stopped her. Because now she could be on the back of some lunatic," I tell her. Smilee steps up to defend his fiancé with a cold glare.

"Brenna is perfectly capable of handling herself. And you know that. So I think this goes beyond what your judgments are, if you know what I'm saying," he says knowingly. Vanessa snorts.

"He despises her. She cheated on him," she scoffs. _Shit._ Reagan slams down her purse.

"He told you _what?"_ she practically screams, a murderous look in her eyes. In fact, everyone looks at us with the same look. Vanessa pales and looks at me. But I've got nothing. No witty lines, no flirtations, no nothing. And Vanessa catches on.

"You lied about that?" she hisses.

"Yes. He did. And on top of that, he still loves her. You dumb bitch," Reagan spits at her. Vanessa launches forward to attack but I grab her.

"I do not, not anymore. If she wants to act like a slut that's her own business," I snap at Reagan, and I'm knocked on my ass by Mira and Zane.

"I would leave," Zane snarls menacingly. I roll my eyes and take out a knife. But even I knew this was stupid. I'd been drinking on and off all night, and while I wasn't drunk, this was just anger fueled confrontational bullshit.

"Thorn. Go. Now," Tool barks, silencing everyone. I put away the knife and haul Vanessa out of the bar. Besides, I was already in enough trouble with her.

* * *

Later on that night, I tossed and turned relentlessly. It was torture. Was she safe? Was she at home? There was no way to tell. I turn to my side and I'm met with blond hair, and my mood dives further. There used to be a mass of black curl next to me, followed by a gentle curve of caramel skin. Everything about Vanessa wasn't Brenna, and I think that's what drew me to her. I wanted someone so far from her to make me forget. But instead, I constantly drew comparisons. Vanessa was cold when she slept, Brenna was warm. Constant comparisons drove me insane.

Vanessa was more than pissed when we came home. She almost drove back to her own place, but I took her keys since she'd been drinking. She took the gesture as me being sweet and worried about her. I just didn't want to be responsible if she hurt herself.

Fine. I regret ending things between Brenna and I. There, I admit it to myself. But we were too far gone to ever consider going back and she knew that. We just had to move on. Clearly I underestimated how ready she was for that. Though I wasn't surprised. A gorgeous woman like her, I'm surprised she hasn't been claimed after all these years.

 _She was claimed. By you. Until you fucked up._

I growl at my inward thoughts and launch out of bed. It was torture to not know where she was. If she was safe, if she'd been kidnapped. But realistically? I was more worried that sleazy scumball was enjoying her body and her lips at this hour. If he was making her smile, laugh. Or worse.

It was five in the morning, the sky was just turning violet from the summer sunrise. I quickly write an apology note to Vanessa, knowing full well I wouldn't be seeing her again after my behavior, and leave to take a ride.

I don't really know why I decided to tell Vanessa that Brenna cheated on me. Maybe because that's part of the reason I broke up with her… in a way, I felt like she had. She broke off our engagement to run off and save another man. The man she also happened to love. That and Vanessa doesn't know I'm a mercenary yet. It was an easier explanation. But I guess she never will know my occupation. I have no doubt she'll be gone when I get back.

Regardless, I owed a lot of people an apology if I ever wanted to gain back Brenna's trust. Her friends and family had to like me again first, which is why I needed to talk to Reagan.

A few hours later I sit in Tool's shop, waiting for them to inevitably arrive. Unfortunately for my heart, I learned Brenna never made it back last night. From what I understand, Reagan had to practically drag Barney home to keep him from going after Brenna. Regardless, everyone that was here so far was incredibly tense and awaiting her arrival back home. What made it worse was that Brenna's phone was with Reagan, and Darren left his phone at the bar apparently. They were totally off the grid, as far as they could be anyway. They could be easily found, but I suspect Reagan put her foot down about tracking them down.

Barney was less than pleased by my arrival but said nothing. It was a Sunday, so I had no doubt today would be a lax day, and it would likely end in some kind of small party as it usually does. That's why I loved our family, it was big and loud and they never stopped.

"What are you doing here?" I hear Reagan's growl behind me. I jump up and sigh.

"I owe you an apology. For my behavior and what I said about Brenna. It was incredibly uncalled for and I'm sorry," I apologize sincerely and she looks taken aback, as does Smilee. She stammers around words for a moment or two, and then stops herself. She closes her eyes shamefully and shakes her head with a sad smile.

"I'm still rooting for you," she whispers under her breath. Her words shock me, so much that I'm speechless momentarily.

"Even after… what I did? Everything I've done?" I ask. Reagan takes a seat with Smilee and they share a look.

"Look. You both said and did stupid things. Both in general and to each other. And you seriously suck at apologizing… to her, anyway. She's both your weakness and your strength. You were at your best with her and you're at your worst without her. You're a dick. Plain and simple. So stop doing that, apologize, and maybe it's not too late," Reagan explains, rubbing her forehead. Smilee looks at his bride-to-be with an adoring smile and kisses her temple. Then he looks at me.

"Do you remember that day we went after Dennis and took out that warehouse?" he asks me. I nod once.

"Do you remember what you said to Brenna after she killed all those men?" he asks. I snort.

"Do I remember what I said to Brenna like three years ago? No," I respond haughtily. Smilee glares.

"Well I do. You said to her that you'd love her no matter what she was, no matter what she did," he says and the room becomes eerily quiet.

"How do you remember that?" I husk.

"Because it was in that moment she realized you were her future. That her life began and ended with you. And then you went back on that promise. You left her because she did something you didn't agree with. You were both hurt. And then she left. Like Reagan said, you both did stupid shit," he explains. Barney scoffs behind me in agreeance. I sit back in my chair, stunned.

"I went back on all my promises. Every promise I ever made, every time I said I would never leave her, that she would never be alone. God," I put my hand in my face, ashamed. No wonder she despised me.


	61. Chapter 61

**_Hey guys! Enjoy this chapter, let me know in the reviews what you think of Darren. Do you think Thorn should step up, bite the bullet, and win her back? ;)_**

* * *

 _Brenna's POV_

I come stumbling out of the bedroom at almost two in the afternoon, trying to get my bearings. Where the hell was I?

"Hey! She's alive!" I hear Darren shout from kitchen as he makes a pot of coffee. I look around, bewildered. A throbbing sensation pounded inside my head, and weirdly enough, my chest. It felt like there was pressure. But it was likely asthma acting up again. I was slightly out of breath, so it made sense.

Then I look down. I was wearing I would assume one of his shirts, and nothing else. I pulled down the shirt with a squeal, not that it mattered, it was long enough to cover everything. Then I groan, both humiliated and horrified.

"Oh no. God. Please tell me we didn't, I mean, I wasn't, we weren't-"

"Necrophilia isn't my kink," he winks at me. I was surprised at what a gentleman he was. I breathe a sigh of relief and then groan once more.

"Necrophilia? God, how drunk was I?" I ask. He snickers.

"The drunkest I've ever seen without needing a hospital, and that's saying something considering my occupation," he teases. I whine.

"I feel terrible," I mumble, walking closer to be black marble kitchen bar. My limbs felt stiff, in fact, they felt swollen. Maybe I fell at some point… ah, no. It was the paintball probably.

"You look like it," he grins. I narrow my eyes.

"Where's the rest of my clothes then?" I demand. He snickers.

"Didn't think you'd want to sleep in vomit covered clothing. Plus side was, it wasn't just yours," he gloats and the talk of barf is making me want to.

"And how did I get out of my clothes?" I demand. He sighs, and I know he's seen me naked. My face flushes with embarrassment and he whistles awkwardly.

"Now THAT was unavoidable. I didn't want puke on any of my stuff," he teases. I glare at him and decide that what he did was the better alternative. If I had woke in my old clothes covered in vomit, it definitely would have had me running straight for the toilet.

"Okay, ew, gross. Stop. And it was your fault, you took me glow-paintballing with seven other drunk guys who had endless beer," I laugh. He grins.

"Pays to have friends, honey. And in any case, you had a blast. I know you did, even if you can't," he winks and I throw a knick knack from the table beside me at him playfully.

"I remember just fine, thank you. I remember your friends didn't believe me when I said I was combat trained," I giggle as I remember their faces when I won our paintball match. It was glow in the dark, so we had our skin painted up and glow sticks attached everywhere. It was amazingly fun, and afterwards everyone parked their trucks and motorcycles in a circle and we sat down and just hung out. Someone had a guitar, I vaguely remember singing.

"Oh no, I sang," I groan. Darren laughs.

"You have a beautiful voice, but it was tainted by the large amount of puke that soon followed," he teases. I put my head in my hands as I feel my face flush.

"The good news is, your shirt caught most of your vomit. I didn't even try to save it, it is now in a dumpster behind a Waffle House on Read boulevard," Darren continues to make fun of me.

"That was Reagan's shirt… oh shit, Reagan!" I gasp, looking around wildly for my phone. Then I realized I gave it to Reagan in my bag for safe keeping.

"Yeah, that's what I was worried about. Your Barney Ross' daughter, aren't you?" he asks. I nod, and he buries his face in his hands and groans.

"That's it then. I'm dead. I kidnapped the daughter of the biggest dog in there," he says. I laugh, walking over to him and putting an arm around his shoulders.

"Relax. I'll just borrow your phone really quick and make a call," I tell him. He gestures to his landline.

"I left my phone at the bar. You can use my landline," he offers. I grab the phone and dial Tool's Parlor.

"Tool's Parlor," Tool answers, his voice uncharacteristically cold.

"What's eating you?" I laugh. He takes a sharp breath in and before he says anything, the phone crackles. "Hello?" I ask.

"Brenna, where are you?" Barney's voice comes through. It shocks me for a second, and then I'm just amused.

"Excuse you, I called to speak to Tool," I say wryly. I hear something slam on the other end.

"Dammit, Brenna, do I sound like I want to joke around with you?" he snarls. I frisson of fear ripples across my skin at his tone of voice. He sounds murderous.

"Jesus. I'm fine. I went out and played paintball with Darren and some friends and I crashed at his place. Chill," I mutter under my breath. Amazing how the man didn't even raise me, but as soon as he sounds mad, I feel like an errant teenager.

"Do you have any idea how stupid that was? Running off, getting on the back of some guys motorcycle-"

"It wasn't some guy. It was Darren from the bar, for God's sake, he's been pouring your drinks for years," I say, exasperated. He's silent for a moment.

"But you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I laugh.

"This just is so unlike you. Are you feeling alright?" he asks. I scoff.

"You mean, this is so unlike the usual broody Brenna? Dad, I promise you, I am fine. Better than fine," I sigh.

"Okay, fine. Are you coming home soon?" he asks. I snicker.

"Do I need to do check-ins?" I ask. He snorts at the irony.

"For my sake, yes," he mutters grumpily. I suddenly feel inconsiderate, he was probably worried sick all night. I hadn't thought of his protective tendencies.

"Sorry dad. I'll be home soon. Don't worry about me so much," I say in a voice lower. I can practically hear his frown through the phone.

"You make it hard not to, kid," he grunts. I frown, and I can sense his worry and apprehension lift through the phone.

"Hey, sorry, Bren. I know you're just trying to get back out there and have fun. I'll loosen up," he says in a quieter voice that makes me think others are listening.

"And I'll lock it down some. I'll be home soon," I tell him, and hang up the phone.

"So on a scale of one to ten, how dead am I?" Darren asks as he offers me a cup of coffee. I grin and take it.

"You'll survive. Thanks to me. Consider it a thank you for last night. I had a blast," I tell him. He returns my smile.

"Well, you may want to bundle up. My car is in the shop and we have to take the motorcycle back to your place. It's pouring out," Darren sighs. I look at him blankly.

"I'm pantsless in your kitchen," I blurt out, implying I don't have any other clothes.

"I, uh, may have something," he confesses guiltily. I narrow my eyes, feigning disgust.

"Ah. So a lady's man, he is," I theorized as he frowns at me.

"No, it's not like that," he protests, crossing his arms.

"No? Is there another reason you have women's clothing here?" I ask, biting my lip to keep from grinning. Darren catches on that I'm just teasing him, and he narrows his eyes playfully.

"Maybe they're trophies for my victims," he sneers. I scoff.

"You lost your trophy behind a Waffle House apparently," I snort. He laughs.

"I mean, it's a Waffle House, so…" he trails off, shrugging like it was an everyday occurrence. And in truth, it likely was.

"I'm gonna go take a shower, while you find me some clothes. Please leave them in your room and not for me to go find, half-naked," I warn him. He gives me an innocent, two-finger Boy Scout salute of honor. I roll my eyes, walking back toward his bathroom to shower.

In seriousness, I really did feel like shit. More than a usual hangover, but then again, I drank more than I was used to. In the last two years I was gone, I don't even think I had a sip. It still, something felt off. I took off Darren's t-shirt as I head toward the shower. As I walk over, I fight a wave of extreme dizziness and grip the back of the toilet for a moment. Intense nausea soon follows, and I blame the hangover and regain my balance. I turn on the hot water faucet and waited for the shower to get steamy.

I walked back over to where I dropped his shirt, and pause by my reflection. I gasp. Dark circles hung under my eyes, which I would have expected due to the hangover. But it was how my body looked. My legs and arms look slightly swollen, unnoticeable to most but definitely to me. My skin was flushed in some spots but yellowing. Like I was dehydrated. Jesus. I must really be hangover. I shake my head and try to ignore the persistent pressure in my chest that was continuously aggravating me.

I turn back toward the shower and pull back the curtain. As soon as the steam hits my face, I feel overheated and my senses go into overload. Warning signs and red flags go up within my brain and my hair stands on end as I realize this isn't just a hangover. Chills run down my skin as my body feels like it's going into shock. I sink to my knees slowly, losing control over my ability to stand or operate any motor skills. My breath comes in short, staccato gasps. I try to grip the wall as I go down, but nothing is responding to my brain. Why couldn't I get my body to move? Why wasn't it listening to me? Have I been poisoned? I look around and realize I'm convulsing. Almost violently.

Vaguely, I realize I've went to the floor much harder than I realized. The towel rack holding me up had collapsed beside me, knocking over all the shampoo and body wash on the side of the shower. It must've made a loud noise. It had to. I try screaming for help, but I'm slowly losing consciousness. I distantly hear Darren calling my name outside the bathroom door. I hear it being ripped open. Cold hands are placed on my bare arms, but it's too late.

" _Brenna!"_


	62. Chapter 62

_Barney's POV_

"Didn't she say she was on her way?" Thorn asks me, and I give him a look.

"Look, I'm glad you came to your senses finally, but she still needs time-"

"No, he's right, Barney. It's been like an hour since she called," Reagan says in worry as she looks outside at the storm. They're apprehension sends my sixth sense into a frizzy and I immediately grab the landline to redial Darren's number. No answer. I curse to myself.

"No answer. They're probably on the way here. Relax," I tell them, but I'm twitching in my seat. Something was wrong. Call it a mercs better judgement or a father's concern, but Brenna was definitely not coming home. So where was she?

"Thorn?" I call out to grab his attention.

"Yes?" he asks.

"Find her," I concede, finally allowing him to track her down. He launches up from his spot. But then my cell phone rings, distracting us all. I snatch it up but don't recognize the number.

"Brenna?" I ask.

"Hello, is this Barney Ross?" a tired female voice asks. I sigh in disappointment.

"Yes," I say through teeth.

"Hi, this is Robin Herrera, from the Parish View Memorial Hospital. I have you down as an emergency contact for-"

"Where is she?" I demand, my heart sinking as my worst anxieties are proven to be correct.

"She's here with us and stable, I've been assigned to your case as the social worker. It seems-"

"Social worker? What legalities are at place here? Is she okay?" I ask rapidly. Robin sighs.

"You need to come down here right away, sir," she says, and I hang up the phone.

"The hospital. Now," I tell to no one in particular, but Thorn, Reagan, Smilee, and Tool are who rise up.

When we get there, I rush to the emergency room where I know she'll likely be. As soon as I get to the desk, a dark haired woman about my age turns around.

"You must be Barney Ross. I'm Robin, we spoke on the phone?" she asks as if I don't remember.

"Yes. Where is my daughter?" I demand.

"She's in recovery and she's awake, but we first need to discuss-"

"I want to see her first," I demand, storming past her.

"Sir, you can't go back there!" the other woman at the desk screeches like an annoying harpy. Robin puts a hand on her shoulder, silencing her.

"No, it's fine. Mr. Ross, I understand your concern, but your daughter is responding well to treatment and she'll be okay but there are some things we need to talk about before you see her-"

"There are no legalities that prevent me from seeing my daughter first. Whatever you have to say to me about insurance, medical bills, whatever, can wait," I push past her, but the woman was annoyingly persistent. I try not to make a scene in front of the rows of beds that were occupied with sick or injured patients. But I was looking around for her.

"She's not here, for Christ's sake," Robin shouts at me, exasperated. I halt in my tracks and finally meet her eyes.

"Where is she?" I say through teeth.

"She's in her own room, recovering. She went into a form of septic shock following a sudden acute renal failure. Sometimes this can take days to form, but given her activities from the previous night, she put her kidney in severe distress. Combine that with dehydration and alcohol-induced sleep, and you've got a very rapid recipe for renal failure-"

"Speak English, darlin," Tool says. I followed along just fine, so I turn to him.

"Brenna drowned her last surviving kidney in liquor. She went into shock when her kidney failed to keep the toxins from her blood," I explain. Tool pales.

"But she'll be alright?" Tool asks both Robin and I. I look at her for that answer.

"She'll be fine, provided you actually _listen_ to me so I can explain why there are legalities involved in your case," Robin huffs, crossing her arms. I smirk. We've annoyed the woman enough, so I follow her out dutifully to discuss whatever we need to. Brenna was fine, and it was killing me, but I'd see her soon. Instead, I follow the short-tempered medical lawyer in front of me.

I take a seat in her office while the others wait outside.

"Okay? So what's this about?" I ask, itching to get to my daughter. Who I was going to have a very stern talking to about how stupid this was.

"We have one file that you are her only living relative, is that correct?" she asks. I nod only once and she sighs.

"I see. I'm sorry, Mr. Ross. This puts you in an uncomfortable position. You see, Brenna's second kidney was removed due to," she pauses, opening Brenna's file to peek at it for reference. Then her eyes widen briefly. She closes it and continues, "she lost her second to a stab wound to the abdomen. And she underwent bodily trauma that put her in dire need of dialysis. From what I've read, treatment went well. And it would have stayed that way, provided she stuck to her prescribed dietary restrictions and safeties. But seeing as how she practically drowned her already limping kidney in alcohol, you can assume how well her last remaining kidney is doing."

Her words toss around in my head like a bingo ball machine. Nothing made sense, but yet, her words were comprehending in my brain. I knew what she was inferring, but it was almost like I needed to hear the words.

"I'd say not well," is all I can manage. She scoffs.

"No, Mr. Ross. Does your daughter have a drinking habit?" she asks. I snort, slightly offended.

"No. She's got a better head on her shoulders than it seems. She's had a rough couple of years and wanted to let loose a little," I defend her, and realize very quickly I wasn't mad at her anymore. Because what I just said was true. She wasn't actively trying to hurt herself, she was just trying to live a little.

"I see. Well, I'm glad to hear that. And what about yourself?" she asks. I tilt my head to the side, actually growing annoyed by her invasive questioning.

"No. Is there a point to these personal insinuations?" I ask.

"Yes, and I'm glad to hear you're not a drinker, because seeing as how you're Brenna's last living relative, you're her best chance at getting a new kidney," she explains. My breath catches in my throat and I choke.

"And yet you claim she's fine?" I demand, rising to my feet.

"She is fine, as long as she's staying in this hospital under the treatment she's getting. But she can't live here forever, and she needs a new kidney, and you're her last living relative. You're her best bet," she says. I think I go into shock, because all I can do it nod at her while she explains the legal paperwork and the process. Then she takes me to a room to get my blood checked. They take three tubes, to check my kidneys and blood.

"Okay, now, we'll send these to lab right away to checked. In the meantime, why don't you go and see her. She's in room 331, third floor," the nurse and Robin direct me to the elevators. I've still said nothing to them. I just want to get to Brenna. At least before I go into surgery. When I get there, it seems everyone else has already found her. And Darren is sitting outside with an angry Thorn glaring at him. I'll deal with him later.

"How is she?" I ask Reagan. He shrugs.

"We tried to get in. They wouldn't let us until you got here," she says. I growl and push open the door with a force so hard that the door flies open and hits the wall, shaking the mediocre picture next to it. Then I hear Brenna giggle.

"Well, I can tell who just walked in," she says through her laughter. I turn from the entryway and finally see her, propped up on pillows and looking about two inches from death. I rush over to her side, and she sits up, but I ease her back down.

"Don't move, just rest," I tell her. She snickers.

"Didn't take me long to get back here, did it?" she jokes, acting drunk still. I look at the nurse with concern.

"She's on morphine," she says by way of explanation. I nod.

"No, it didn't," I sigh, frowning deeply as I take the seat next to her. She rests her hand on mine and suddenly looks incredibly sad.

"Are you mad at me?" she asks lowly. The nurse gives us an alarmed look and quickly leaves the room. I wait a moment, then look back at Brenna's face.

"I was. Not anymore. Though I have to ask, why did you drink so much?" I ask.

"I forgot. It's been two years since my last sip of alcohol and two years since my last kidney problem. I just forgot," she rasps weakly. I nod.

"Now I'm mad," I grump. She squeezes my hand and closes her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles sleepily. I smirk.

"I know. Go to sleep," I say, squeezing her hand back. I don't have to tell her twice before she falls asleep. I prop my head up and rub my forehead, annoyed. The girl has always been a walking time bomb, about to explode and injure herself at any point in the day. But I could understand why she forgot. In fact, I don't truly believe she forgot. Her mind was so dark back then, when she was going through dialysis. She's likely repressed the memories, deep down.

"How is she?" Darren peaks around the corner and I glare at him.

"Better, no thanks to you," I snarl. Brenna stirs in her sleep, mumbling something unintelligible. I settle down to keep from waking her.

"I've spent all of two minutes with her. How was I supposed to know she had a kidney condition?" he hisses back, countering my argument. I open my mouth, but I have nothing to say.

 _Thorn would've known._

My subconscious shocks me, as I realize I'm resentful that Darren isn't Thorn. But I'm not touching this love triangle.

"And on top of that, I got her to the hospital immediately. Doesn't that win me any points?" he demands. I exhale through my nose, unhappy about how this wasn't his fault. But still. He got my daughter heavily drunk.

"It isn't your fault. But as a woman who was drunk, she wasn't capable of saying yes or no in a complete coherent state, so therefore-"

"Woah man. Chill. I didn't touch her. I slept on the couch last night," he stops me, alarmed at my accusations. His fear makes me realize he's telling the truth. And as much as I hate to admit it, it does win him some points. I nod once at him, thanking him in silence. He nods back, approaching her side. He takes her other hand, and the gesture shocks me.

"Haven't you-"

"She's the most interesting girl I know. She knows how to laugh, when you let her. And when you can get her to laugh? Forget it. She can make married men turn their heads with that laugh. It makes you feel like your on cloud nine," he explains his gesture, his eyes not leaving her face. I didn't like it.

"You've known her all of two minutes, you said it yourself," I mutter. Darren opens his mouth to argue, but a movement catches his eye, and mine. Thorn has swept into the room, glaring at him.

"I think you've had enough time with her. Let her _actual_ family have some room," he sneers. Darren snorts.

"Yes, because you're on that list. Why are _you_ even here? It's not like you give a shit about her," Darren barks. Thorn steps forward and I stand up.

"For fucks sake. She's trying to sleep. If you're going to fight, take it outside," I hiss, not wanting to watch to men fight over my own daughter. It was awkward enough. They both storm out, but not likely to throw fists. Just to continue this argument. I sigh and rest my head back in my hand.

"I always told you she'd be a heartbreaker," Tool says behind me suddenly. I jump, but then smirk.

"Not sure how I feel about it," I growl.

"Relax. She's a ball buster, and an ass-kicker. Sabrina did well," he comments. I know he's mentioned her name on purpose, to get me to cheer up. It works.

"That she did, my friend," I sigh, leaning back in my chair.

"Are you going to rest?" he asks me. I nod.

"May as well. It'll be a few hours before I hear anything," I say.

"Okay. I'm going to go pry Thorn off of Darren," Tool smirks. I raise my head, alarmed.

"Did Thorn hit him?" I ask, bewildered. Tool continues to smirk.

"He'll live," he winks and leaves the room. I scoff and look at Brenna's face.

"Dammit, kid, why'd you have to go and act like a normal twenty-four year old?" I ask, humored. Of course none of this was her fault. God forbid she acts her age for once, and not like a veteran soldier with too much field work. Still, I'm sure her own guilt will be punishment enough. Besides. I was still rooting for Thorn.

* * *

"Are you going to sleep all day?" I hear a loud and obnoxiously familiar voice harp.

"Well, not anymore," I growl, and Brenna laughs. I sit up, my neck stiff and sore from the chair.

"How long have I been asleep?" I ask.

"From when I woke up? Two hours. I have no idea how long before that," she says. She looks worlds better, her transfusion likely contributing to that. But now we needed to talk about what was about to happen.

"Brenna… we need to talk," I say. She shakes her head.

"No. You're gonna yell at me," she pouts considerably like a toddler and I can't help but laugh.

"Believe me, I wanted to. But that's not what I want to talk with you about," I tell her. She sits up, concerned.

"What's wrong?" she asks, alarmed.

"It's your kidney, kid. It's done for. You need a new one, and I'm your last living relative so-"

"Oh god. Dad, I'm so sorry. I should've been more careful, I should've been paying better attention-"

"Relax, kid. I'll agree with you there, but back when you were getting dialysis, you were in a dark place. You've probably repressed most of those memories and I don't blame you. I just wanted to warn you, that this is where we stand," I explain to her. She tears up.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" she sniffs. I roll my eyes and get up, sitting on her bed.

"You're a fucking moron," I say dryly, and she laughs through her tears. She takes a deep breath and looks away suddenly, and I know why. She's scared, and she doesn't want me to see. I pull her face back around and look at her. I hate it when she looks scared.

"You have no reason to be scared. You're gonna be fine," I tell her. She shakes her head, wiping her face.

"It's not me I'm worried about," she whispers. I frown and shrug.

"I've got two kidneys. You have one. And it sucks," I say, and she laughs again, "so, who needs it more?"

She opens her mouth to respond but a nurse comes in with a grave look on her face.

"Well? When do I go into surgery?" I ask, but I get a bad feeling when I see the look on her face.

"I'm sorry, sir. But your cross-match came back positive," she says. Brenna frowns.

"Positive? That's good, isn't it?" she asks.

"No ma'am. We check health, blood and cross-match compatibility between the kidney recipient and the donor. If the recipient's cells attack and kill the donor cells, the crossmatch is considered positive. Which means, your body would reject his kidney," she explains. Brenna's face falls, and I take her hand. _Shit. She can't go out this way. She just can't._

"But, we do have some good news. We have your next possible donor ready, and his cross-match was negative. His blood is miraculously O-, and since you're A-, you would still be compatible," she says with a small smile. Brenna's hand squeezes in mine with hope.

"You would both need to fill out a lot of paperwork, so the sooner we get started, the sooner you can be out of here," the nurse says and starts pulling out papers.

"Wait, who is it?" I ask, standing up. The nurse takes a step back and leans out the door.

"You can come in now!" she shouts. She walks back in, and several moments later, Thorn walks out from behind her.


	63. Chapter 63

_Wow I suck, I know. I'll just be honest, I've been very unmotivated lately. I still love writing, and I love this fic, I'm just trying to figure out where it's going. But obviously I'm going to keep writing it. **WARNING AHEAD** : Raunchy shit in this chapter. Nothing heavy, but if you're not a fan of it, skip the end of this chapter. _

* * *

_Brenna's POV_

"No. Absolutely not," I seethe when the nurse leaves the room. Barney gives me an exasperated look.

"Could you maybe not let pride get in the way of what will save your life?" he mutters. I give him a knowing look.

"Coming from you? That's rich," I counter, and he can't help but smirk.

"Look, this is happening. I have a rare blood type, I've been donating blood all my life, and I've always thought about donating a kidney. And now I have the opportunity to give it to someone I know. Please, Brenna, let me do this," Thorn asks calmly. I'm surprised by his honesty and improved attitude, considering our last encounter.

"Dad, will you please leave the room," I say through clenched teeth. He stands, stifling a grin, and pats Thorn shoulder as he walks out. _Traitor._ When I hear the door shut, I turn my glare to Thorn.

"What's your angle? Hm? You think if you give me kidney, that means we're good again?" I snap. Thorn glares at me.

"No, I'm thinking if I give you my kidney it'll save your life," he says dryly.

"Well maybe I don't want to owe you anything," I sneer. He sighs.

"Brenna, just… ok, listen. Yes. I meant what I said about just genuinely wanting to help you, but I also think it'll make us good again," he admits, shocking me. It should make me angrier than all hell, but instead, I'm a little pleased with his honesty. But I don't let my guard down.

"And what if it doesn't?" I bark. He sighs, smiling a bittersweet smile.

"At least I would've saved your life. For the tenth time," he winks. I can't hold back a smile now, as I laugh.

"I've saved your life too," I mutter unhappily. He grins that crooked all American boy grin that brings me nostalgia.

"That you have. Despite our past Brenna, I just want you to trust me again. Please," he gestures to the paperwork and tries to reach for my hand, but I snap it back.

"Won't Vanessa be upset about this? I am your ex after all, this'll be awkward," I ask shyly. He hesitates.

"It won't be a problem," he grunts, and I can tell that they didn't last long. I'm shocked that it deeply satisfies me.

"Oh," is all I manage.

"Can we please sign some paperwork?" he asks, feigning aggravation. I give him a tight smile.

"Ok," I sigh, still unsure about this.

* * *

"And you'll be here when I get out?" I ask Barney about twelve hours later. He scoffs.

"I'm not going anywhere," he mutters. I smile and squeeze his hand one last time as the nurse carts me off to surgery.

"So. Who's the handsome guy romantically throwing in his kidney?" the nurse asks with a wink once we're in the operation room. I choke up a laugh.

"A friend," is all I say. She smiles secretly.

"Honey, you may want to clarify that with him," she comments. I raise a brow.

"Why?"

"Because that boy loves you," she sighs, giving me a "girl, you're in trouble" look. I grin up at her as I begin to doze off, the anesthesia likely being injected into my IV.

"I'll bet against that," I slur, blackness consuming my vision.

* * *

When I wake up, it's dark in my room except the lamp on the bedside table. The lamp next to the other bed was on too, and in the bed was Thorn. He was reading a pamphlet of sorts. I gulp. They put us in the same room? I bet that nurse had something to do with that.

I was achy, more than achy, but he looked like shit. I open my mouth to ask if he was feeling okay, but get choked on my dry mouth. He jumps and looks over at me.

"Hey. You're up sooner than I thought," he frowns, unsure if I should be awake. I look around and realize we're alone.

"Where's my dad?" I ask.

"He went to go hunt down some food. He hasn't ate all day. I didn't figure you'd be up so soon," he says again.

"Where's Darren?" I ask. Thorn pales.

"He left," he says simply. I narrow my eyes at him.

"What are you not saying?" I hiss. He frowns, and then a knock on the door silences us.

"I heard her voice, is she awake?" Lee says, peering around the door. He's by my side in a flash.

"Hey love. How're you feeling?" he asks. I shrug, wincing at the movement. He frowns.

"I'll go get a doctor," he says, leaving the room. Thorn clears his throat uncomfortably.

"Well?" I ask.

"Darren had to leave," he says, settling back down into his bed. I sit up in mine with a wince.

"Why?" I demand. He sighs, throwing down his pamphlet.

"I broke his jaw," he mutters. I launch up and cry out in pain.

"Thorn, what the fuck?" I snap. He looks at me, astounded, and then his face settled into an annoyed glare.

"Lay back down or I'll force you back down. And I'm _also_ injured, so in this case, you'd be hurting me too," he warns lowly. Something about his challenge makes me want to listen even less. Especially in light of recent revelations.

"I will lay back down when you explain why you broke Darren's jaw," I hiss under my breath, my temper barely under control. Thorn exhales from his nose.

"He came at me first. We exchanged a few words. I told him next time he takes a lady out for a night, take better care of her. He said it wasn't his fault, he couldn't have known-"

"And he would've been the correct one," I interject. His eyes narrow but he continues.

"I told him it didn't matter, and that I wouldn't expect a bartender to think of anyone else besides who hands him the tip," Thorn finishes. I grip the side of the bed in anger, barely keeping myself at bay.

"And then he came at you?"

"Yes."

"And you broke his jaw in response?"

"Yes."

"Do you have _any_ idea how fucked up that is? You could've easily been the bigger man and walked away, and in any case, why bother getting on his ass in the first place? Why were you even here when I was admitted?" I demand. Thorn rubs his eyes tiredly.

"I answered your question. Get back in your bed," he warns in a voice barely above a whisper. I fold my arms over my chest, my hospital gown no doubt taking away any intimidation I was trying to pull off.

"Why were you here?" I seethe. He throws his hand down away from his face, smacking the side of the bed bars so loudly they rattle and bang together, shaking the bed frame.

"For Christ's sake, Brenna. I still care that you're alive," he chokes out, both annoyed and astounded. I frown.

"Based off of the last encounter we had in this very same hospital, you could've fooled me," I mumble, accidentally saying my thoughts out loud. It grows quiet, eerily quiet, in the room and between us.

"Get back in your bed," he closes his eyes once more, ignoring my jab at him. And on some level, I'm even more annoyed by him ignoring it. I stand up straighter, ignoring the pain in my side.

"No," I say stubbornly. His eyes fly open and he meets mine. Fire dances in the darkness of his pupil that narrows at me.

"I won't ask again," he hisses. I shrug.

"Good," I sigh, looking away.

The movement from his bed happens so fast that I barely see him. In a flurry of sheets and blankets, I suddenly feel two strong hands on my upper thighs, hoisting me up and over his shoulder very gently. I pound on his back with my fists.

"Put me down!" I yell.

"Stop acting like a child and I'll stop treating you like one!" he snaps back. He pulls me over his shoulder and slides me back down his body. His hands slide up my thighs as he lays me back down. He's careful not to do any harsh or quick movements, both for my sake and his.

My breath catches in my throat as his hand brushed my bare hip, as he gently guides it down toward the mattress. His movements become even slower, both out of not wanting to hurt me and the sudden electric pull between our bodies. His hands on my bare skin, sliding up my legs, sent shivers across my skin. My body was betraying me, my goosebumps alerting him that I was feeling this too. His eyes lock with mine, and his anger and frustration with me is still very much there. But there's something else. A deep, sensual pool of desire that he's pulling me into. I find my hands bracing myself against his broad shoulders as I try to maintain some distance, but it's no use. I'm under his spell. I'm punch-drunk on whatever he's doing to me right now. Our movements become very still as his lips part in desire. A hand slides out from under my gown, the other remaining on my hip, and his thumb grazes over my bottom lip gently. I suck in a sharp breath.

"Brenna…" he whispers, his voice caressing my name. His voice was dark and tortured, like he's been in agony for years. Before he can let me think twice, he presses his lips to mine.

Intoxication. My head spins with unraveling desire and lust. He sits on my bed and pulls me into his lap, his hand still at my bare hip. He gently rubs circles into my hip bone and I moan quietly. He takes the opportunity to move his tongue into my open mouth, bringing me back to all those years ago when he kissed me on the rooftop of the parlor for the first time. I wind my hands around his neck, pushing against him gently. He growls and lays me back down on the bed, crawling up my body. He spreads my legs apart with his knee, and hikes my hospital gown up past my thighs. He pushes himself between my legs, forcing me to wrap them around his waist. His passion and lust suddenly turn feral and he grasps my chin firmly, trapping me beneath his body and kiss. All reason was going out the window, any resistance I could've had was crumbling away with every touch, every kiss.

"Thorn…" I whisper, placing my hands on his forearms in an attempt to tell him no, but I couldn't even get the words out. I didn't want the words to come out. I just wanted him.

"Oh god baby I've missed you," he groans, his tongue invading my mouth in expert ways once more.

 _Fuck it._

I pushed back against him, my tongue fighting his. I feel his demeanor change as he senses my resignation. He snakes a hand around my waist and pulls me closer to him. He lifts up his hospital gown, spreads my legs apart once more, and gently fills me. I groan and dig my fingernails into the hot flesh of his shoulder muscles. They flex up and down, matching his staccato breathing. There wasn't a damn thing I could do now, I was his, and I wanted to be.

"Yes," he hisses, pulling my hair back to expose my neck. He leaves burning kisses down my throat, and I arch my back in response. He rhythm increases as he realizes I'm not as fragile as he thought, and he grasps my hips with both hands. He thrusts in as he pulls my hips down, and I grip the sheets under me tightly.

"Brenna…"

"Brenna…"

My eyes snap open, and I launch up in bed with a yelp. My eyes scan the hospital room, and I discover there's no extra bed. Thorn wasn't even here, it was just Barney, in the chair next to me. I take a staggering breath. _Christ, it was just a dream. Where the fuck did that come from?_

"Are you ok? You were tossing and turning in your sleep," Barney asks, concerned. I realize he must've woke me up, thank god.

"Did I say anything?" I immediately ask. He shakes his head, cocking it to the side.

"No… why? What were you dreaming of?" he asks. I shrug.

"I don't know. I told you. I hardly ever remember these things," I lie, yawning to feign disinterest.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Good. Fine. How's, uh, how's Thorn?" I ask as nonchalant as I can. I don't succeed, Barney raises a brow. "Oh he gave me a kidney for Christ's sake," I laugh. Barney returns my laugh.

"He's fine. Resting still," he says simply. I nod and settle back into my pillows.

"So what are you going to say to him?" Barney asks. I raise a brow.

"Uh… thank you, I guess," I mumble, shocked by his sudden concern with my complicated relationship with Thorn.

"I meant Darren," Barney clarifies. I frown.

"What do you mean?" I ask. Barney laughs, rubbing his exhausted face.

"Of course you would say that. Your potentially new boyfriend just caught wind that your ex gave you his kidney. How do you think that makes him feel?" he asks. I groan.

"Okay, for one, Darren is not my boyfriend. And two, Thorn just did it to save my life and call us square. I accepted those conditions. So now we're good and even, no more hostility. That was the deal. Darren plays no part in that, and nor does it mean anything between Thorn and I," I explain defensively. Barney shrugs with a coy grin, as if thinking something else. I glare at him.

"What?" I snap. He chuckles.

"Nothing. Darren is right outside, do you want to see him?" he asks. I smile and nod, and his face falls slightly. What did he expect, I would fall head over heels in love with Thorn for giving me his kidney? It was incredibly heroic and I would be forever grateful, and now we could be close friends.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" Darren says as he rounds the corner. I sit up more with a smile.

"Pretty good thanks to you," I say softly. He frowns.

"I wasn't the one who gave you a kidney," he mutters. I ignore his blatant jab at Thorn.

"You got me to the hospital. You saved my life," I smile. He relaxes briefly and takes my hand gently, a gesture that shocks me.

"Does that score me a second date?" he asks cheesily. I laugh.

"Please don't tell me you counted that first night as a date," I whine. He chuckles.

"Well, how about you let me re-try date number one? Make it up to you for all this," he gestures around the room and I frown.

"This wasn't your fault. I chose to drink. I forgot about the consequences. It's my mistake. You couldn't possibly have known. I'm sorry you've had to deal with my family since then," I sigh. Darren shrugs.

"It's no big deal. This time however, let's try not to nearly kill you."

"You'd be surprised how hard that is," I mumble.


	64. Chapter 64

_Thorn's POV_

I tossed and turned in my uncomfortable bed all night. Well, as much as I could for a man with one less kidney and stitches. I really needed to see how she was doing. Barney has been with me on and off, likely transitioning between his daughter and me. It was kind, a rare thing for him. But I honestly just needed to see her.

Before I could stop myself, my feet hit the cold linoleum floor. I was still hooked up to antibiotics, but the nurses have me going to the bathroom on my own, and showed me how to temporarily disconnect my IV line safely. So I do, and peak out the door. No one is in sight, so I follow along the luminous hallway, attempting to find her door. Then I hear her laugh. I halt in my tracks and turn to where I heard the sound. I hear it one more time and grab the door handle that it comes from. I compose myself and knock first.

"Come in!" I hear her voice ring out softly. I open the door and my heart falls into the pit of my stomach. Darren is on her bed, holding her waist closely to his. She's looking up at him smiling and he's giving her an adoring look. Both their faces fall when they see me.

"Hey, I just wanted to check on how you were doing," I ask. She looks around behind me, confused.

"I'm fine. How are you feeling?" she asks, with genuine care in her voice. It shocks me momentarily. Maybe this whole experience really did put us back in the green. Time to keep that train rolling.

"Yeah, yeah same. Hey Darren, I just wanted to apologize for earlier, man. Hospitals make me antsy and as you can tell, Brenna has a lot of fans," I joke weakly and gesture to her room filled with flowers. Her face suddenly glows warmly as she smiles gratefully at me for apologizing. Darren must've told her about the fight we had. It consisted of a few shoves and nasty words, Darren fell into a lunch tray stand. That was all. But Darren isn't listening to me, or if he is, he's not looking at me. He's looking down at her face as she smiles at me with worry and speculation. _Jealousy._

The intense wave of satisfaction I feel over this is unbelievable. But his look is worrying… he looks, well, domineering. He looms over her like a giant, holding her in chains. She could take care of herself obviously, but still. I didn't like his look, something about him gave me uncomfortable vibes. But that was probably just because he was holding _my_ girl.

"It's cool," is all he manages. Brenna's smile falters at his response but she keeps a mask on. Clearly there's nothing left to be said, so I clear my throat uncomfortably.

"Alright. Just wanted to check on you. Get some rest," I say awkwardly and leave the room. Darren mutters something under his breath, and I hear a grunt when I assume Brenna elbows him. I grin. I felt like I was walking on cloud nine just because we were back on good terms.

* * *

I finally was able to get some rest and drifted to sleep. I don't know how long I was out before I feel something prodding my arm gently. It's probably a nurse so I don't bother opening my eyes. Then I feel the bed shift downward like someone was sitting on the end. I open my eyes and see Brenna, exhaustion in her eyes, looking at the wall frustrated.

"Brenna?" I ask. She jumps, surprised I'm awake.

"Hey. You were really out of it. You feeling okay?" she asks in concern.

"Better now, beautiful," I grin sleepily. She rolls her eyes.

"For your sake, I'm going to assume they gave you pain medicine that's making you loopy," she mumbles.

"Assume away," I tease. She cracks a grin and swats my leg.

"Easy," she warns playfully. I smile at her and for a minute we hold that look.

"So what's up?" I ask. Her face falls.

"I… I'm not sure. Part of me wanted to come down here and say thank you for apologizing to Darren earlier. It was really mature, even if he wasn't willing to be," she mutters unhappily.

"It was no problem. Where is he now?" I ask. She sighs.

"He went home for the night after I convinced him too. He's been hovering worse than you or Barney ever did," she says. I frown.

"He's not giving you any problems, is he?" I ask. She furrows her brow.

"No no, it's nothing like that. I mean, my ex-boyfriend just gave me his kidney. So he feels understandably threatened. But he just didn't want to leave my side. For him, me being in the hospital isn't an everyday occurrence," she jokes and I laugh, wincing at the pain that laces through my abdomen. It's silent for a moment.

"So? What's the other reason?" I ask. She stills.

"What other reason?" she asks softly.

"You said part of you wanted to say thank you. What about the other part?" I ask. She exhales through her nose.

"The other part… just wanted to see you," she breathes in a voice that barely counts as a whisper. I sit up instantly, moving closer to her, but she stands up.

"Thank you. For saving my life. Again," she teases but there's a sad tone to her voice.

"But?" I ask. She sighs, finally giving in.

"We're back on good terms now and I don't want you to think that… well, that _everything_ is gonna go back to normal… does that make sense?" she asks gently. I laugh humorlessly.

"In other words, we're good again and you want us to be friends but you don't trust me," I try not to make my voice sound blunt and harsh but don't succeed. She shakes her head.

"No, Thorn-"

"I get it. I messed up. But it's been a long time, Brenna, and-"

She walks over to me, puts a finger to my lips and silences me.

"That's not what I meant," she says gently. She's inches from my face, the closest she's been in literally years, and I turn myself to stone and refuse to move despite every cell in my body leaning in toward her. Her familiar scent of lavender and rose, with a new scent that matched maybe cedar, engulfed my frame and only made her proximity so much more challenging. I had to force myself to keep talking.

"Well then what did you mean?" I ask. She's silent for a moment as she gathers her thoughts.

"Earlier, when I called you out on only wanting to do this because you wanted us to be on good terms, you were honest with me. It may not have been what I wanted to hear, but you were still honest. And it was in that moment, I realized I could trust you again. It wasn't throwing in your kidney that made us good again. I just want that on record. Honesty is the only way we can be friends and you proved to me that you're capable of it," she looks up at me with her gorgeous green eyes that were full of trust, and I realize I haven't told her everything. _Dammit, I'm about to ruin everything._

"Brenna… I need to tell you something. Something I told Vanessa about you that wasn't true-"

"You told her I cheated on you. Reagan told me, when she was visiting with Aiden and Smilee. Why would you do that?" she asks, but I'm surprised at how calm she's being. Perhaps the medicine in her system was making her that way, not that I was complaining.

"I don't know. It was a lot simpler than telling the truth. She obviously couldn't know the truth about my occupation. It's too complicated. And-"

"You thought it was the best fit. That's what I'm so hurt about. Is that what it felt like for you? That I cheated on you?" she asks. This is the first time she's even brought up David or the situation caused by him, probably ever. I'm surprised at how well she's handling it but I'm also surprised that she's wanting to hear my side of things after so long. _Does this mean she wants to work things out?_ I shut my heart down, it's hopeful thinking would get me in trouble.

"Brenna… it's hard to explain. You ran off, away from me, to help another man. When you generalize it, that's what it feels like. But I'm perfectly aware it wasn't that easy. It was really complicated for you. But you never came to me. I've always stood by you, I've always supported your decisions even when I was perfectly aware they were the wrong ones. You going off on your own? I would've followed you. I would follow you anywhere, Brenna, because that's how much I care. But you made your own call to exclude me from your plan and your life, hell, you gave me back your ring. To go go after him, to help him. So no. You didn't cheat on me, you never could, and I know that. But you still betrayed my trust. You aren't the only one who lost that along the way," I finish with a sigh. Her eyes were large and mournful as she stared at me in silence. I only looked at the ground. He hands tremble at her side.

"I-I never even… I never took the time… to read your side of things," she stammers, both horrified by my revelations and regret clear in her voice. But this was good. Talking was good.

"You didn't need to. You had your own demons to deal with. I thought I could resolve all of mine by cutting you out of my life. I thought I could save myself from ever being hurt like that again if I put you in a position where you never could. So I left you. I left you when you needed me most and I am sorry, Brenna. I'm so sorry," I apologize for the first time. She shakes her head, reaching forward, but hesitates. She pushes back any hesitations and rests her hand gently on my face, forcing me to look into her eyes.

"No, I'm sorry. We both did horrible things. I never even paused to hear you out, to consider why you did what you did. I just left. It was too painful, I-" she gets choked up just thinking about how she felt back then. The sound of her almost in tears causes me to stand swiftly from the bed and pull her into my arms firmly. _Good god._ It was amazing to have her in my arms again. It was everything I needed. Her slender frame was leaned into mine, her arms woven around my torso tightly. The fragrance of her dark hair was intoxicating, bringing me back to several years ago.

"It's okay. We're okay," I smooth her hair, pressing my lips to her scalp. She pushes back gently out of my arms and my heart sinks.

"This is what I meant. We can't go back to how things were," she chokes. I shake my head, confused.

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because of all that's happened. What I put you through, what you put me through. It was toxic, Ethan. Completely and utterly toxic. We were explosive, but we burned out too quick. The way our lives go, at one point, we'll lose the other. I'll lose you, you'll lose me. And even if I could get over that, it wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be the fair way to live. Constantly worrying, watching our backs. Look at Barney and my mom. Look how it ended for them. You once said yourself that you were worried it would end like that. And it almost did, and we were engaged. If that's any indication of how life may be together, we can't have a life together," she says with a finality in her voice. But I don't buy into it. I know she still loves me. Otherwise she wouldn't be spewing all this crap about being worried about losing me and about how it just wouldn't work.

"Brenna, things are different now. We can make this work," I tell her, because if I accuse her of being full of it, she may storm out that door. Her pride was her Achilles heel, much like her father.

"There's no way to guarantee that. And in any case, I like how things could be now. Things could be really good between us as it's rare that exes have that opportunity," she says, looking up at me. I grasp her arms but she pulls away.

"Brenna-"

"I need to get back. Please respect my decision," she urges. My brows furrow and I scoff.

"No. No I won't respect that decision. I'm sorry, Brenna, but I can't. I know how my life ends and it's with you by my side. Whether that starts tomorrow or in ten years, that's how sure I am of you. But I'd rather not waste ten years of my life waiting for you to realize that," I proclaim. She sighs.

"Then don't. Don't wait around for me. I can't have that on my weighing down on my mind. It's not fair to me," she begs. I don't budge.

"I'm sorry, Brenna. I told you I'd support any decision you make. But honey, I can't let you go again," I tell her. She shakes her head and turns to the door, walking away. She pauses by the door.

"Don't do this," she whispers one last time. I grin at her.

"I can't," I say. She huffs angrily and slams the door. I chuckle to myself. She is so full of shit. The only reason she can't let herself do this is both because of pride and genuine fear that she may lose me. I don't blame her there, she's lost so much. That's a choice I get to make for myself that she's robbing me of. But pride? It was time for her to get over that, and I was going to help her with it.

And as much as she doesn't want to admit it, she loves me.


	65. Chapter 65

_Brenna's POV_

"Are you sure you want pink?" I complain at Reagan. I stare in the mirror, dreading the dress she's picked out.

"It's not pink. It's dusty rose, and all the bridesmaids are wearing the same color. Get over it," the bridezilla commands. I groan.

"Oh stop complaining and let me see the damn thing," she laughs. I part the curtain and walk back into the dressing room area of the bride shop. She gasps and says nothing.

"See? It's an awful color on me." I complain. She hawks at me.

"Are you kidding? I may change the dress just because I don't want you to look better than me," she says with wide eyes. I laugh.

"Yeah right. I look like a half chewed piece of bubble gum," I complain.

"Oh you just hate the color pink in any variation. It's _dusty rose._ Not hot bubblegum pink, you colorblind oaf," she insults. I fold my arms.

"I am not colorblind," I pout.

"Oh I love that!" Luna says as she appears around the corner with wine glasses and a water for me.

"I think she looks hot," Mira teases, likely just enjoying my plain humiliation. I glare at her.

"I agree. Darren is going to swoon," Reagan grins.

"Oh is that who she's taking? I hear Thorn is-"

"Alright enough! I'll wear the damn pink dress," I concede and everyone cheers.

"Okay cool. My turn," Reagan says excitedly and pulls in a rack of wedding dresses. _Jeez, this was gonna be a while._ Though I was secretly enjoying this, and Reagan was beyond happy and excited. She delayed buying a dress until a month before her wedding because she wanted to slim some more baby weight off before buying a dress. She rushes behind the curtain with dress number one, and Mira sits close to me. Luna goes to help Reagan in her dress.

"So, seriously, have you talked to him?" Mira asks. I frown.

"Who?" I ask. She grins mischievously.

"Both of them," she teases. I pinch her arm playfully.

"It's not like that. I've avoided Thorn since the hospital, as much as I can, but he makes it hard to. On purpose. And Darren hates it. He's pretty much forbid me from being around him," I sigh. Mira's eyes narrow.

"I'm sorry? He _forbid_ you? What are you, an object?" she asks. I shake my head.

"No, he never actually said it. He just gets pissed when he hears we've spoken or even been in the same room together. And he has a right to. Thorn hasn't exactly made it easy. He comes onto me at every possible interaction. That's why we haven't had many in the last few months," I explain. Mira nods thoughtfully.

"What kind of pissed?" she asks, concerned. I give her a look.

"Mira. I can handle myself," I warn her. Besides, Darren wasn't a villain. He had jealousy issues, and he had a reason to.

"Yes, but, something tells me you'd do anything to make sure things work with Darren. Even if he isn't meant for you. Because of your pride over this whole Thorn situation," she says. I whip my head around.

"Have you been talking to my dad?" I hiss angrily, feeling betrayed. She cocks an eyebrow.

"No, but something tells me I've hit a nerve," she grins. I cross my arms and stay silent. She picks up on my now somber face.

"Hey, I'm just picking on you, that's all. Have you told him yet?" Mira asks.

"Told who what?" I ask.

"You know what. Darren and about the maid of honor and best man's dance?" she asks.

"No, because I'm dreading it. If I tell him he may not even go," I complain.

"You've been dating for almost three months and this is how he acts still?" Mira complains. I don't give her the satisfaction of agreeing with her, even though I do. I need to do something for Darren that proves how serious I am about him. But it was almost impossible right now with all the maid of honor duties I've taken on. That and I've officially moved out and on my own since I stuck with my plan and bought some land. Kind of anyway, I was still staying with Barney until it was built up some more. It was a fixer upper for sure but it made me incredibly happy to work on it. I bought it for a steal too, only $45,000 near the Garden District. That pricing was next to impossible to achieve, but Barney helped me out a lot on those connections and the property was completely falling in. But it couldn't be more perfect. My phone buzzes and it's Barney.

"Hey dad," I answer, glad to be away from this conversation.

"Hey kid. Having fun?" he asks.

"Guess," I mumble. He laughs.

"Try to. Anyway, I found the wallpaper steamer and wanted to know if you wanted to work on the house tonight before I leave?" he asks.

"Yea sure," I say cheerfully, happy to be getting back to my project.

"Perfect. Grab a pizza, meet me there at 5?" he asks.

"Sounds good," I confirm.

"Alright, see you then," he says and hangs up.

"Going to work on the house tonight?" I hear Reagan's voice ask behind me.

"Yup, finally found the wallpaper steamer-"

I turn around but I trail off when I see my best friend in a stunning ivory mermaid dress. It had a crystal embroidered bodice and sweetheart neckline with delicate lace wisps at the bottom of the fan.

"Reagan, you look beautiful," I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth. She smiles widely, turning toward the mirror.

"They say never assume the first dress is the one, and it may not be, but wow," she breathes as she looks in the mirror.

"Well go try on more. But definitely keep that one on the yes rack," I smile, starting to have fun.

* * *

 _0200 Hours_

 _GITMO Holding Complex_

 _Prisoner 06_2486_

 _Calvin Ray Alhauser_

 _Trial: 03-07-19_

"Mr. Alhauser, do you recall the date June 11th, 2012?"

"No."

"Cal, I can't help you unless you cooperate. I'm trying to help you."

"I won't need your help."

"Your trial is in six months. You've got a helluva record and we can get you off with just 25 years here if we really hammer this shit. But you've _gotta_ work with me."

"Really? Being responsible for drug trafficking, murder, rape, false imprisonment, abduction, and above all else, war crimes and you _seriously_ think you can get me off with 25 years?"

"I didn't say that. I said 25 years _here._ In GITMO. Then they can transfer you stateside to a federal prison, a lot more comfortable to live out your final years. _If_ you just cooperate, plead guilty, and also trade information on a plea deal. But we've really got to build your case-"

"I won't need a case."

"What does that even mean?"

He finally looks up, his eyes were bloodshot, bruised, and crazed. He sneers as teeth as yellow as dog fangs curl over his lip.

"Because I'll be in New Orleans by then."


	66. Chapter 66

_Brenna's POV_

"Did you have fun trying on dresses yesterday?" Thorn says behind me, making me jump.

"God, you scared me," I breathe quietly. I look around the deserted parlor at two AM. No one was around. Not even Barney, who was scouting a job with Christmas and Doc. They left last night after one of our many famous Sunday night parties. Barney and I showed up late of course, dirty and sweaty from working on my house.

"Sorry," he grins, flashing me a sideways smile.

"Why are you still here?" I ask, turning back to the sink to get the food I came down here for. For some reason I woke up starving.

"Tool made me stay. Confiscated my keyzz," he slurs, and I realize he's still drunk from earlier.

"Ah. Hit up the booze too hard again, huh?" I ask, chuckling. I laugh mainly to cover my concern, he's been drinking a lot lately and I wasn't enjoying it. Especially for a man with one less kidney.

"Smilee did too! He just had a designated driver. Why are you still here?" he asks.

"My house isn't insulated yet and it's getting cold. I'm staying here until things get finished. And I'm sure someone could've drove you back to your place," I say mindlessly as I start making two pop tarts. I suddenly feel a warm body behind mine. I sigh.

"Are you offering to take me back to my place?" he flirts drunkenly.

"Thorn-"

"Or are you worried your boyfriend might beat me up?" he snickers as if the thought amuses him. I turn around and narrow my eyes, leaning back to get some distance.

"You know, he might be able to," I defend Darren. Thorn cackles and I throw a hand over his mouth in case he wakes up Tool.

"Be quiet!" I hiss.

"Why, no one is here," he places two hands on the countertop behind me, my waist between them. He backs me up against it, attempting to hit on me, but stumbles. I giggle.

"Alright, drunky, time to go lay back down," I say and turn my back to him.

"Mm, now we're talking," he says against the skin of my neck. I was thankful I was wearing a sweatshirt. But I want to pinch myself for the unwelcome goosebumps that follow.

"Thorn. What are you doing," I say flatly, attempting to sound annoyed and not amused. I think it works. But it doesn't deter him. He hands close in on the counter in front of me again, trapping me between his body and the marble surface.

"You're too serious all the time," he mumbles against my hair.

"And you forget I have a boyfriend all the time," I reply, rolling my eyes.

"Boyfriend-shmoyfriend," he grazes his teeth against my earlobe. I decide enough is enough and wrap my ankle around his from behind and pull it out to the right, throwing his balance off. I grab his elbow and shove it toward him, attempting to shove him toward the ground, but he counters it by driving his heel into the weak spot behind my knee. My left leg crumbles and he scoops me up and onto the counter, my legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on my bare thighs.

"You're getting out of practice," he gloats, teasing me.

"Maybe I should do something about that," I giggle in response. This is what I liked. I liked the playful fighting, the friendly conversations we have. Not the in my personal space flirty stuff from before. Even though right now he's between my legs and has his hands on them.

"Okay, Thorn, seriously. I get that you're drunk but enough is enough. I'm with Darren. You've seriously gotta stop with this," I lay down the law. Thorn grins cockily.

"Is that why you haven't told him about us having to dance together yet?" he asks. I shove him backwards.

"Who told you about that?" I demand.

"Issa secret, ssh," he presses a finger to my lips, but then gently grazes his thumb across it. I jerk my head back, shove him off of me, and jump down from the counter.

"Stop it," I warn. My pop tarts pop out of the toaster and I grab them and put them on a paper towel. I feel his eyes on me the whole time I'm walking around.

"Why do you do this?" Thorn asks suddenly, sounding a little less drunk.

"Do what?" I mumble over pop tart.

"Pretend to hate me, pretend to hate the way I make you feel."

"Excuse me?" I demand angrily.

"You love it. Otherwise you would've told me to fuck off by now, and meant it."

"Or it's because you're drunk, and I know you'd never cross that line, even drunk. Because I trust you and you don't want to make me regret that," I say meaningfully. He stops, and I know it's because I've hit a nerve.

"Ok fine. But just admit it to me," he asks in a voice barely above a whisper. I turn to him and see his heated expression. I back up but he follows slowly.

"Admit what?" I ask breathlessly, because the way he's looking at me right now makes me head spin. I back up all the way into the refrigerator with a loud thud and it shocks me. I turn to look and see if I knocked anything off of it but when I turn back around, Thorn is directly in front of me. More like on top of me, pinning me with his gaze.

"The way I make you feel," he grins that boyish grin he knows I like so much. But I can't get passed what he said.

"You are so cocky. You think I have some kind of deep, dark, secret obsession with you? Is that it? Because I'll tell you something, buddy, you can kiss my-"

I'm silenced when his lips press against mine. I shove him off of me instantly, pissed and flustered at the same time. I try to ignore the tingling sensation that crawls across my skin and the way my lips suddenly felt like they were throbbing from the blood pounding from my heart. I try to ignore the way he looks at me with an almost animalistic need. And I try to ignore how I felt the exact same way.

Before I can stop myself, we both lunge at each other. Our lips meet so forcefully that our teeth briefly clash. He fists my hair with one hand and picks me up with the other. I wrap my legs around his waist and grip his face tightly, squeezing my eyes shut to try shut out any part of brain telling me this was wrong. He sets me on the island counter and runs a hand up my sweatshirt, to my bare waist. He holds me fiercely to him and growls like some kind of animal. He fists the hair at the nape of my neck and pulls, exposing my neck. His lips pull and kiss the skin down my neck, and I scoot closer to the edge of the kitchen counter to pull our bodies closer together.

"Thorn…" I moan, but try to pull away from him to get some distance. But his grip on me was so strong, I forgot how impressively strong he really was. It was almost inhuman. I gripped his bicep as I tried to pull away but enjoy how it feels flexed around me.

 _Darren. Fuck._

"Thorn, no, stop," I gasp and shove him off successfully. He looks at me like he's one some kind of prize.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this. I have to go," I say, almost in tears over how telling Darren about this was going to go. He'd just be getting off work right about now.

"Wait, what? Where are you going?" Thorn asks from behind me.

"I can't keep this from Darren. He deserves to know. He's a great guy, and I just made a horrible mistake. I'm sorry, Thorn, but I can't be your friend like this," I sob, grabbing my keys. Thorn yanks them from my hand.

"It's two in the morning. You can sleep on it," he says, suddenly very serious and concerned.

"Give me my keys," I yell, hot tears coming from my eyes. I brush them away angrily, furious that I was showing so much emotion in front of him.

"Brenna, baby, I'm sorry-"

"Don't call me that! I warned you not to cross that line. This is all my fault. I should've been telling you to stop with the flirting all along," I growl. I was such an idiot to think he was being harmless. I never should have let him flirt as much as he has been, even though I wasn't flirting back.

"You have, Brenna. I didn't listen. Because I don't mind crossing that line if I have to win you back from some stupid bartender-"

"He is my _boyfriend,_ Thorn. Remember when you told you Vanessa I cheated on you? Well I actually _did_ just cheat. It's a fucking disgusting thing to do, and I just did."

"For fucks sake, it was _one_ kiss, Brenna," Thorn laughs without humor.

"And how would you feel?!" I scream at him. Tool comes tearing out of his bedroom with murder in his eyes.

"What the fuck is going on out here?" He demand. Thorn turns to answer I take his distraction to snatch my keys back.

"Nothing. I was just leaving," I turn on my heel as I hear both of them yell after me. I haul ass into my Jeep and speed out of the garage, hoping to beat Darren home.

* * *

"Brenna? What are you doing…." Darren trails off when he sees me tear streaked face in the rain.

"Can we talk?" I ask. His eyes widen.

"Yes, of course, come on up. We'll get you dried off," he says. It was pouring outside but the only parking for Darren's apartment was like, half a mile away. Thunder claps loudly above our head, making me jump. Darren gives me a concerned glance as he swipes into his building. He puts an arm around me delicately and guides me in like I'm a lost puppy.

We get to his apartment and he rushes off to find me a towel.

"Here. I have some of your clothes here too, if you want to change," he offers. I was lucky I've come here a few times after working on my house with a change of clothes, otherwise I may not have had clothes here. And I may need them back in a minute, but I shake my head.

"No I'm okay," I say in a small voice.

"Brenna, come on. What happened? You look like you've seen murder," he says. Honestly, I've handled murder better than this. He still has no idea how deep my issues go. Only because I don't want them to be apart of my future. He knows I have a fucked up past but he's never asked about it.

"Thorn kissed me," I say, ripping the bandaid. Darren goes from silent, to unadulterated rage seeping from his pores.

"And?" he whispers, enraged, knowing full well what I was about to say.

"And I kissed him back," I say, ashamed. At first, it was silent. Then something crashes. I jump and realize he's throw a vase and it's shattered on the wall across from me.

"What the _fuck_ , Brenna?! You've been on my ass for months, since the hospital even, that he was harmless. That my jealousy was over the top and unnecessary because "he wouldn't cross that line". And then this happens and- wait. Are those _hickeys?!"_ he roars, glaring at my neck. I turn and look in the hall mirror and I'm appalled. _That fucker. He did that on purpose. So that Darren would see._

"Darren I'm so, so sorry-"

"You did more than kiss, Brenna. You full on made out. And you didn't even stop him. Good to know you're just the same as any other girl that hangs around my bar, just as slutty as the next!" he's screaming the place down, I'm worried the neighbors will call the police. I try to ignore his hurtful slut comment, but it only renews my tears. I approach his side.

"Darren, I am so sorry. I don't know what else to say except it was a mistake and I regret it. I don't know what happened. He kissed me once and I shoved him off immediately and then he kissed me again-"

"Wait, he forced himself on you? Was he drunk?" he demands.

"Darren, don't-"

"Nice. You chose some drunken murderous asshole mercenary over me. You know how to pick em," he sneers and turns toward the door. _No. He's more than that._

"Where are you going?" I follow him.

"To teach him a fucking lesson," he sneers. I grab his shoulder.

"Darren, don't, please, I don't want anyone hurt. This is between you and me-"

"Don't touch me!" he snaps, jerking his shoulder back into me. He knocks me backwards and I fall into the bookshelf behind me. A shelf breaks and jams into my rib cage and I cry out unexpectedly. Darren's eyes go from murderous to regretful.

"Jesus Christ, Brenna, I'm so sorry," he turns around and offers me his hand, but I wince away.

"Baby, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to knock you back like that," he begs, tears forming in his eyes. Honestly I was just happy he wasn't murderous anymore. But I still felt completely shocked. He hadn't technically shoved me but he still knocked me backwards. Admittedly I was scared. I push myself up with a painful cry and hold my shoulder. He steps toward me but step back instinctively. He hangs his head in shame.

"I'm so sorry," he says again, horrified by himself. I take a deep breath and calm down. We both did bad things. It's okay.

"So am I," I choke, and his head snaps up hopefully. He opens his arms and walks toward me and I open mine. We embrace each other tightly, he's careful around my shoulder and rib that now ache ferociously.

"I'm so sorry," I repeat into his shoulder. He strokes my hair.

"I know. I know. Me too. I wanna work this out, baby. I do. But there's a lot that needs to change," he says. I nod.

"I know. Anything. I-"

"First of all, I don't want him anywhere near you. The wedding is fine because that's your best friend and I understand. But I don't want you going to Tool's when he's there," he demands.

"Okay but how am I supposed to know when he's there or not-"

"Just move in with me."


	67. Chapter 67

_Thorn's POV_

"Brenna, please, let me talk to you for a minute about this. Please," I beg her as she loads boxes into her Jeep. She was stoically ignoring me, and she had a right to, but she had to hear me out. She could not move in with this guy three months after knowing him, and that's my jealousy aside.

She throws a box into her passenger seat and whirls around, electricity crackling around her from her rage.

"First of all, I shouldn't even be here. I wasn't aware you would be, but _someone_ lied to me," she glares at Tool around my back, who's also giving her a look of disapproval.

"Darlin, you're lucky your father isn't here. Otherwise he'd drag you inside and lock you up in your room," Tool mutters. She folds her arms over her chest like a child.

"I have a fire escape. And in any case, you brought this on yourself. The kissing was mutual, fine. Even if you were a little heavy with coming onto me. Whatever. But giving me hickeys? Are you fucking kidding me?" she snaps, the air goes still. _Fuck. Did I really do that to her?_

"I completely forgot-"

She laughs bitterly.

"Right, so, not only did you kiss me and mark me up, but you don't even remember it," she snaps. I notice Tool has retreated now back to his parlor out of privacy for us.

"Trust me, I remember it. I just forgot I did that to you. But I remember doing it. And it was wrong."

"No fucking kidding! What am I to you? An object you can mark up and claim as territory? Now that you gave me marks, I belong to you, and Darren should what? Back off? Do you have _any_ idea how chauvinistic and degrading that is? Shows how high you think of me!" she screams at me. She had a right to, but my patience was wearing thin. Fuck, this was all looking so good until I did that to her.

"Baby I'm sorry-"

"Do _not_ call me that," she hisses angrily. I take a step back and furrow my brows, deep in thought. Then I look at the way she carries herself. Her body language is guarded, her skin red and hot from anger and humiliation. Her face was flushed red and her lips parted in rage. But her eyes. Her eyes were of self-loathing. And I recognize why, and grin.

"What?" she snaps.

"Look, you have every right to be mad about the hickeys. You can kick, slap, scream the place down, I deserve it. But this anger comes from more than just that. You hate yourself for the way you felt last night with me," I accuse. She turns slowly, fuming.

"What?" she whispers, rage consuming her volume.

"You liked it. And you hate yourself for it. It's just the way it's always been. I make you nervous. And you love it," I grin, looking at her face flush as I guess correctly. She spins sharply away so I can't see her face. But I don't miss the painful look across her facial features that flashes so briefly. It was very hard to tell when she was in pain. She had a very small scrunch in her nose and a small wrinkle would form in her forehead. But it was so small, both gestures, that you could barely tell. But it was a red flag for me. She exhales through her nose, another sign of pain, and I launch forward.

"Are you okay?" I ask. She backs up away from me, guarded.

"I'm fine," she says a little too quickly. Now I know she isn't.

"No you aren't. You would've taken every opportunity that question laid out to tell me how pissed you were. And all you can come up with is I'm fine? What happened?" I ask. She shakes her head and turns to go back upstairs for another box. I grab her wrist and yank her back toward me and she gasps in pain, clutching her side. I back her up against her Jeep and keep her there.

I lift up the right side of her sweater and she goes rigid still. _What. The. Fuck._

Blue and purple bruises went from her upper shoulder to her rib cage. They were entirely fresh. From last night.

"Brenna. I will ask you once. Is he responsible for this?" I say through teeth. She remains mute, a rare occurrence for her.

"Not directly-"

"Brenna!" I snap, slamming my hand down on the hood of her Jeep. She jumps and her eyes become misty.

"No," she lies. I shake my head.

"I'm going to _shred_ that fucker," I growl and turn for my jacket.

"Thorn, no, he didn't do this-"

"Why are you lying?! Why are you defending this, why are you moving in with someone who did this to you?!" I roar in her face. She takes a step back from me, fear in her eyes. _Shit. I didn't mean to scare her._

"He didn't do this. Really. Our argument got heated and he tried to storm out. I grabbed his shoulder and he shrugged me off, but did so a little too hard. He accidentally knocked me into a bookshelf and it broke," she explains. I grit my teeth. Part of me was glad he didn't hit her, part of me was pissed I couldn't kill him. But just because he wasn't aiming to hurt her doesn't change the fact that he did.

"Brenna. For fucks sake. That's literally no better. The man has an anger problem and you know it. For months you've known it. Each time he got jealous, his anger was over the top. He never directed it at you, because he's good at hiding what a scumbag he is. But now he has and _look_ at you," I plead, trying to talk some sense into her.

"Are you listening to yourself right now? _He didn't hurt me._ Not on purpose. And you'd say anything to keep me from him right now so do me a favor, save the bullshit, and leave me alone," she snaps and whirls around to go grab her last box.

Fine. If that's how she wants to play it. I'll wait until Barney gets home and see how he intervenes.

* * *

 _Barney's POV_

"She did _what?!_ " I roar and drop my duffel bag to my feet. Tool sighs and spins in his parlor chair.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you over the phone," he mutters over his pipe. It was the middle of the night when we got back, I wasn't expecting to see her until morning, but now I find out I won't be seeing her at all.

"What happened?" I demand.

"Thorn crossed a line and kissed her. She let him, felt awful about it, ran to Darren and told him. I'm guessing they must've worked it out but he laid down some heavy rules. One of them being that she moved in with him," he explains briefly. I rub my forehead, annoyed and confused.

"This doesn't make sense. This is so unlike her and she's never, ever done what she's told," I mutter mainly to myself.

"You think he's forcing her or something?" Tool asks, raising a brow. I exhale heavily and shake my head, still confused.

"I can't tell. She's the strongest person I know. More than you and I combined. So why she would just willingly accept these outrageous terms for Darren, a man she barely knows, is beyond me. I mean, you know her. Nothing deters that woman, nothing gets under her skin…" I trail off as I finally come up with answer. I sigh.

"What?" Tool asks.

"Except Thorn. Thorn gets under her skin. He always has. He's been able to reach a side of her I never could. When she was angry, beyond her boiling point, beyond reason, Thorn always pulled her back. Better than I ever could. He's obviously in her head good and she's doing all she can to avoid him. This isn't about Darren at all," I inform Tool. I felt sort of bad for Darren. There's only two ways this ends, and neither of them include him. Brenna wouldn't stay with him long, just long enough to keep Thorn away.

I immediately take out my phone and dial Brenna's number. She waits until the last ring to answer.

"Dad," she says evenly. Not even a hello. I smirk. She knows she's in trouble.

"Hey kid. I figured you'd be up still. Heard you had a rough day," I tell her. She sighs.

"What did Tool tell you?" she groans. I laugh.

"The generalization. Enough to make me question what the hell you're doing. So what's going through your head? Do you even love this guy?" I ask her. She's silent for a long time.

"I love him enough," she says. I sigh.

"That's not an answer. Do you love him?" I ask. More silence.

"I'd like to have the time to find out. I can't do that with Thorn constantly hanging all over me and pestering me. He crossed a line and I'm so over his bullshit I could scream. At first it was mildly annoying and I could deal with it because it was better than hating him. And then, well, you know what happened. And I let him. And I have no idea why because I don't care for him like that anymore-"

"Really? So you're running away from him, doing all you can to be far away from him for another reason?" I ask.

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"Come on, Brenna. You aren't hiding from him, you're hiding from your feelings for him."

"I literally just said-"

"Look, deny it all you want. You're the one who's stringing Darren along and lying to yourself, those are your problems to deal with. Just try not to make any more insane decisions based off of your pride? That's how I lost you twenty four years ago," I tell her, and she finally stops trying to argue.

"Dad, does that still bother you?" she asks, sounding incredulous.

"Every day. Everything I've done that's caused you pain," I tell her somberly.

"You can't-"

"It's late and this is off topic. Go to sleep," I tell her. She's quiet for a long time but doesn't hang up.

"Okay. Goodnight," she mutters and hangs up. I look at the phone bizarrely. What's gotten into her?

* * *

"So are we taking the job?" Christmas asks.

"Yea, it looks to be pretty solid. Pay out isn't too big, but it's a small job. I think Smilee is actually going on this one. Reagan is gonna be pissed," I tell him. I met with Lee and the old guys down at Rusty's. Toll Road looks across the empty bar and frowns.

"He should really retire soon," he comments. Doc snorts.

"We all should," he mutters.

"I hear that," Caesar says. I chuckle.

"What about you?" Gunnar asks me. I give him a bazaar look.

"What about me?" I ask.

"I think he means are you gonna retire anytime soon? Now that Brenna's back?" Lee asks me. It stumps me. I hadn't thought of it much and I'm surprised Brenna hasn't brought it up. Maybe she's changed her mind after all the shit I've put her through.

"We haven't really spoke of it," I tell them. They exchange looks but remain mute. "What?"

"Didn't say anything," Doc says into his beer.

"No, what?" I demand.

"It's just… you've never actually been able to be a father to her. Things are finally getting good and I'd hate to see that go down the tubes if she loses you too soon or y'all start fighting again," he says. I frown.

"That's a conversation for her and I to have, not us," I warn them and everyone silences. But he was right.


	68. Chapter 68

_Brenna's POV_

"So you're really doing a location wedding?" I ask.

"John is originally from Leavenworth. His parents ran a bed and breakfast. There's a lodge there called Mountain Springs lodge that handles weddings and I think it would mean a lot to him to get married where he was originally from," Reagan informs her bridesmaid crew. It was sort of comical, it was almost like watching Barney brief the team on a job. Reagan and I were front and center of the parlor, giving everyone their duties now that the big day was only three weeks away. Which meant that soon, we'd be leaving for a cold and desolate mountain covered in snow.

"Ok but… there's snow," I complain. Reagan laughs.

"You've never even seen snow, how would you know if you hate it?" Reagan gives me a look. Luna and Mira snicker, and I give them a warning glare.

"Wait a minute, you've never seen snow?" Barney asks as he walks into the room, overhearing us.

"Excuse me, this is the bride-briefing. No boys allowed!" Reagan points to the exit. I snort.

"It's cold and wet. I'm pretty sure I don't like it," I say, answering her question from earlier and confirming Barney's question.

"You like rain though," Luna interjects.

"I like _New Orleans_ rain. The rain here is warm. Isn't snow out of season anyway?" I ask. Reagan laughs.

"Brenna, there are these places called mountains. They usually have snow on them year round," she explains like I'm five. I pick up a Sydney opera house satin napkin and throw it at her. She laughs. I hear a cry from upstairs and I know Aidens awake. Reagan sighs but I stop her.

"I'll get him. He probably just had a nightmare," I offer and rush upstairs to get my godson. He was sleeping in my bed in my old room.

"Hey kiddo. You awake?" I ask and creep in the room. He's sitting in the bed with a tear streaked face.

"Where's mommy?" he asks.

"She's downstairs. Did you have a nightmare?" I ask and sit down on the bed. He crawls over to me and asks to be held. I pick him up and put him in my lap.

"No. When I wake up there was a man in here," he says. Every hair follicle on my body stands to attention and I snatch up Aiden.

"Where was he?" I ask, attempting to remain calm. He points to the closed window with a small arm. I grip him to my chest, my first priority getting him downstairs and to his mother. Kids think they see things all the time, this was likely no different. But with my life and the way things go around here, it wouldn't shock me. I just had to keep calm and take him to Reagan.

"Okay. Let's go see mommy. It was probably just a shadow," I tell him. He frowns because he doesn't like my answer, but nods. I leave the room quickly with Aiden clutched to my torso protectively.

"There's my little man! Hey Brenna, we're thinking of changing the theme from rose to, like, a frosty rose. You know, since the mountains…" Reagan trails off when she sees my face. I curse to myself when I realize Barney wasn't in the room anymore. I couldn't make this a big deal in front of Aiden, he was too young for any of this.

"Brenna? Is everything okay?" Luna asks. I force a smile.

"Absolutely. That sounds like a great idea. I had one for the menus, I was thinking we could add a lemon glazed salmon with an action salad side," I say evenly. Reagan's head snaps up at the mention of our old code word, action salad. She pulls Aiden to her side and glances upstairs.

"Sure. Why don't you and Luna go get the food options from upstairs? Mira can stay here and help me decide on the theme," she gives us all a meaningful look. Luna calmly gets up, understanding our double meaning. Mira comes closer to Reagan's side as protection if need be. I nod at Mira and she distracts Aiden with cute idle chat. I turn to Luna and nod upstairs.

"What's going on?" she hisses.

"Aiden said there was someone in his room when he woke up. Could be that he just saw nothing, you know how kids are. But-"

"You don't wanna take the chance. Got it. Mira still has Aiden distracted, if I can get to the gun cabinet-"

"No need," I say, opening my leather jacket to reveal the gun I have usually strapped and hidden to my rib cage. Ever since Thorn said I was out of practice on my martial arts, I've started carrying it again. It made me feel more comfortable. Luna smirks.

"Typical of a Ross. Okay, I'll watch your six," she says and we head upstairs. As soon as I make it up the stairs I pull the gun and load it quietly.

"He said he was by the window," I whisper as I creep into the room. My heart was pounding but it comes to a dead stop when I look at the window. The curtains were gently blowing in early spring breeze.

"Luna. That window wasn't open before," I hiss. She halts and stiffens.

"What's the call?" she asks me, and I'm surprised she's asking _me_ what to do. As if I'm her boss. But nevertheless, I come up with a plan.

"There's no way to tell whether the person came or went. Our main priority is making sure Reagan and Aiden are safe. Go back downstairs, secure them, get Mira to round up whoever is lurking in the garage. Tell my dad to meet me up here, and keep Reagan and Aiden in the living room with Mira and Tool. Whoever is left, search the entire garage and parlor. I'll start up here," I tell her. She hesitates.

"Brenna, what about you-"

"I'll be fine for three minutes. It won't take you long. Now go," I tell her. She nods and rushes back downstairs. I clear my room and the upstairs part of my room. As I'm leaving the bedroom, I hear a loud metallic bang in the alleyway outside the window. I slowly approach the window and peak out. There was nothing in the alleyway below. I look up, and I see feet on the fire escape above me.

"Hey!" I scream. Whoever it is, takes off up the fire escape. "Shit," I hiss and climb out the window. I race up the fire escape and follow the person onto the room. I raise my gun.

"Stop, or I'll fire," I shout at him. He was wearing a baseball cap and large sunglasses, hiding most of his face. It was dark out, and that didn't help, especially because his clothing matched the dark sky. The only thing that catches my eye is the sudden white flash of teeth. He spins and takes off across the roof. I fire two shots after him but he suddenly jumps off the roof and my heart leaps into my mouth.

"Brenna!" I hear Barney's shout, as he likely heard the shots from the open window downstairs. But there was no time. I holster my gun and race after the man, seeing that he jumped to the lower roof of the building beside the parlor. I can't hesitate, so I don't slow down and jump. I land and somersault to take the impact off my legs. He slides down a fire escape and I follow into the alley down below. I continue chasing after him as he races into the street. A car that was coming down the road screeches to a halt but can't stop in time. It hits the man, and he bounces off the car but keeps running. I race down the street and I'm about to catch him when a large arm suddenly clotheslines me in the chest, knocking the wind out of my lungs. I wheeze briefly but scramble to my feet. The man gets into the back of a van and yells for the person that clotheslined me in a different language. It didn't sound familiar, a language I've never heard before. But the hit that knocked me backwards did made my head fuzzy.

The large man that knocked me down goes to deliver a punch but I duck out of the way and kick his abdomen. He falls into several trash cans, and they fall over with a very loud clatter. The men in the van continue to scream at him to come back. They give up and leave him here, the van screeching off into the night. _Shit, that means I have to keep this fucker alive if I want answers._ He pulls a very large knife from an unseen holster on his hip. I reach for my gun but it's not in the holster. I panic and look around, and I see it's behind his feet. It must've got loose when he knocked me backwards. He swipes the knife at me several times and I avoided his slices. I kick up the wall of the building to gain height and deliver a hard rotating kick to the side of his head. He falls but doesn't lose the knife. I hear footsteps behind me and I turn quickly to block whoever was attempting to approach my flank. But it's just Barney, as he runs to my aid. The man takes the precious second of distraction and grabs my wrist. He hauls my abdomen over and goes to drive the knife into my stomach. I swing off his arm and get behind his left leg, kneeing the back of his knee. The force causes him to crumble to his hands and knees as Barney arrives. He wrestles the knife from his hand and kicks it away.

"Are you hurt?" he asks me frantically, well, for him. Likely concerned over hearing the gunshots earlier. He looks all over me to makes sure I'm not bleeding anywhere.

"No, those were my shots," I explain. The man we were holding takes the precious second we were speaking and suddenly uses his body weight to throw me over his shoulder and onto the ground with a sharp thud. I groan as my bruised rib and shoulder come into contact with the concrete. He takes his now free hand and wrestles with Barney, attempting to retrieve his knife back. He slams Barney's head into the building wall behind him. Barney falls to the ground, slightly incoherent now. The man loomes over him with the knife and I get up quickly and roundhouse kick his rib cage. The man roars in pain and I know I've met my goal of cracking at least one. He turns to me with pure rage in his eyes. He swings the knife at me with hatred and fury. I stand between him and Barney, trying to keep the man from getting to him. I'm finally able to kick the knife from his hand successfully, and it flies back into the alleyway between building at least twenty feet away. My foot lands on something hard and I look down and realize it's my gun. I go to grab it but he tackles me off my feet and I land next to Barney. The man grabs my gun and points it at Barney who was trying to get up unsuccessfully. He pulls the hammer back as I'm on the ground and I pull myself upright to block the shot. I throw my body in front of the gun, shielding Barney.

"Brenna, no!" he roars, and grabs my shoulders from behind. Time slows around me, adrenaline-filled blood gushing and throbbing into my head. My hearing pulsates, pressure builds up between my temples as I try to protect Barney. He flings my body around and positions me against the wall, his back turned to the gun. He spins quickly to disarm the man. A single shot rings out. I flinch and look around, realizing I wasn't hit. I look up at Barney, who's standing painfully still, and I realize he wasn't so lucky. My heart suddenly stops surging, but everything around still remains muted and distant. I hear another shot but this time the man behind us falls to the ground, dead. I look around Barney's shoulder and see Gunnar and Luna rushing over to us. I look back at Barney, and look down at his chest where blood was now pooling through his shirt. I gasp and Barney starts to sink to his knees.

"Fuck. Dad, hang on. Gunnar! Call an ambulance!" I cry from where I was now joining Barney on the ground. Panic seizes all reason as I attempt to stop the bleeding from his chest. I take his hand and press my other hand to his wound, blood gushing between my fingers. It was on his right side and not his left, so that made this a lung shot. My suspicion is confirmed when he starts having trouble breathing and blood drools from the corner of his mouth. His dark eyes glaze over.

I was losing him.


	69. Chapter 69

_Thorn's POV_

"Do we know anything about them?" Toll Road asks, staring into the wild and flickering chaos of the candle wick in front of him. What a good metaphor for the situation we've been placed in. Christmas sighs, likely trying to recall anything suspicious from his recent scout out with Barney. It was our only lead.

"Not much. Maybe we didn't do a good enough job on our scout out, I don't know. Drummer slipped us the job, Barney had finally said yes to working with him again. We'll have to wait for Drummer to finish looking into it and to tell us what went wrong. When we flew down, it seemed like an easy job with a honest payout. Nothing backhanded about it."

"That's what I don't understand. Drummer sent you to a drug war on a peninsula of Indonesia. There hasn't been a single media coverage of this "drug war". Why is this just now surfacing on the grid?" Caesar asks.

"You know how shit goes. Before shit hits the fan, they call us," Christmas explains.

"Yea, but I get what Caesar is saying. Drummer had all the intel before sending you in, supposedly, he had the _only_ intel. Why didn't he pick this up, if there was anything suspicious?" Smilee asks. Mars nods in agreement.

"Here's something. Did Drummer make direct contact to give you the job, or did he send somebody to hand you the job?" Galgo asks. The room goes silent, likely understanding what he was implying and shocked that he was using his head for once.

"A spook gave us the information. We never spoke to Drummer directly… do you think we've all been compromised?" Christmas asks him, but Tool sits up from his chair with a pipe in his mouth. He takes a puff and lets the smoke out slowly, his dark eyes growing somber and pained.

"It's possible. Drummer has been operations chief for so long and we've been in the business for years," Tool says knowingly. I furrow my brows.

"What do you mean?" I ask. The older guys get quiet, sharing a look. Especially Doc and Tool, the veterans of the veterans.

"Every once in a while… the agency decided their response team's need shaving down. And when that happens, another merc team from around the globe that they would usually consult with on various matters goes… missing. Sent on what seems like an easy job and then it goes 'horribly wrong'. Church tried to do it to us once and we lost a good man. But, there are forces here that go beyond what Church was capable of and beyond what Drummer is currently capable of. Drummer isn't the entire agency, he's an operations officer. _One_ that we happen to consult with. One of many officers that agency has. So it's likely that Drummer never knew much about the job that was handed to us because it was given to him and cleared above his head. And now it looks like the agency has selected us for its next annual purge," Tool explains grumpily.

"Why wouldn't Drummer do his own check through the job? Whether his bosses pulled rank or not, he still has a job to do," I inquire. Toll Road scoffs.

"That's what we would like to find out. We need to know if Drummer was ordered to stay out of it, the problem is that if we go around asking questions about Drummer and the way he works, the agency may speed up the process of getting rid of us," Toll Road informs. This only confused me more, Drummer was damn good at his job and everyone knew that. And he loved to get his hands dirty with us once in a while, so why would he just assume a job was clean if it was handed to him from a higher up? There was absolutely no way in hell that he didn't know about this. The problem was we didn't know if he cared.

"How? Our success rate is through the roof, we're the best team in their arsenal," Luna demands angrily, interrupting my internal conflicts. Christmas scoffs.

"Exactly. And we've been that way for years. We know a lot about how they operate, we know a lot about their files. Hell, we've worked most of them. Long before you youngsters came around," Doc explains.

"So, that's it then? They're done and they just wipe us out? If you knew that, why would you continue working for them?" Mars demands, rightfully pissed that this information was never disclosed.

"Because our kill numbers are high. Our arsenal is massive and our success rate is higher than any other response team they have. It was never a concern. But now we realize, it was never about that. Though I'm sure that's why we've last as long as we have," Gunnar chips in.

"Well then what's this about?" I demand.

"Everything we know, especially recently. With what happened with Cal and Church, and everything in between. Things were going smoothly until all that shit hit the fan. And then the agency likely realized that their indiscretions and mistakes along the way could be made public, based on what we have on Cal and Church. Everything could be brought to the media, we could make millions selling those secrets. It would make for a very short life, but we could do it. So the agency kills us before we can. Easy clean up, secrets stay locked in a vault. No one would miss us, a new response team is found," Doc sighs. Smilee throws down the file we have on the job that Christmas and Barney scouted out. We were examining it for any missed information.

"So we're completely meaningless to them? Never mind all the shit we've cleaned up for them!" he snaps.

"That's the point, kid. And you joined a team called the Expendables. You knew this day would come," Tool reminds him darkly, bringing to our attention our naivety. He was right, the name we hold literally means to be disposed of in exchange for an objective. This was on us for not seeing this coming.

"So what do we do?" Galgo asks.

"We wait to hear back from Drummer," Christmas shrugs. They all seemed pretty lax about this whole thing, more than I was comfortable with.

"Why are you not up in arms right now?" I demand.

"The agency won't directly take us out, that'd be too obvious and we have too many allies across the globe. They'd catch on to what was happening, make it public. Or worse, take it out on them. It'd be full out war. So for now we lay low, don't take any jobs, and do our best not to draw attention to ourselves. There's nothing to be done right now," he glares at me, warning me against my tone.

"Not without Barney," Caesar grumps. We all collectively sigh for our leader, the room growing still and mournful.

"How's Brenna doing?" I ask Luna in a voice just above a whisper. She still wants me nowhere near her, assumingly. But last I heard, she was in pretty rough shape. I was worried if I tried to go see her right now, she may snap. It just wasn't the time for me to attempt to re-enter her life, as much as I wanted to be there for her right now.

"Won't leave his side. Nurses have told her it could be a long time before he wakes up. Can't even breathe on his own. Collapsed lung, and then he hemorrhaged during surgery, went into cardiac arrest. Shit hit the fan and now they can't say whether his condition will get any better. He's critical but stable. And Brenna is… well, she's blaming herself. She's barely said more than five words in a week, she won't eat, she won't go home. She tried to work on her house to take her mind off of it, but I think being there made it worse. It's kind of their project they were working on together. So she came back and hasn't left. And Darren has tried to get her to leave, but gave up," she says sadly.

"He 'gave up'? Gee, what a fantastic boyfriend," I mutter. Everyone gives me an exhausted look. Doc sets down a book and looks at me, his face practically dripping in ironic derision.

"And you? You haven't even gone to see her, or him, because-"

"She'll freak out if I do. She's still pissed at me about the-"

"Just go see her, dude. We've all tried to get through to her, but she's like an ice cube. Frozen to the core, unmoving. And bring her a change of clothes, I'm pretty sure she's changed once since she got to the hospital," Smilee mutters. I smirk. I didn't doubt that. I pinch the bridge of my nose, and finally give in.

"Fuck it. Fine," I say and grab my keys. The majority of the room smirks as I leave the room, but I ignore it. I go to her house, which was slowly getting move in ready, because I know she had some of her clothes there. I duck under a construction sheet and find her a pair of tan leggings and her favorite faded black sweater. I also grab some thick socks because I know her feet get cold when she's worried. I stuff it all into a duffel and decide to grab some spicy chicken chili from her favorite place in case she hadn't ate, which was likely.

Once I had the works, I made my way to the hospital and thought about what to even say to her. Provided she let me in the room. I wanted to see how Barney was doing, I really did. But I was just desperate to see her face, to make sure she was okay.

I round the corner and get to his room, where I hear Brenna's voice.

 _Was he awake?_

"...don't know, maybe I'll try using the steamer next. I tried to use the sander the other day and that did _not_ go over well, so I think I'll just wait until you wake up," I hear her choked laugh, but it sounded more like a sob from how sad she sounded. She was obviously crying. I quietly step into his room. Her back was faced away from me, she was sitting in a chair as close as she can get to his bed that looked like it could give her scoliosis. She held his hand, and had her body curled up on the chair tightly like she was holding herself together. He looked terrible. He was on mechanical ventilation and had every wire, monitor, and tube going into his body. Bags hung from his eyes and his skin, though usually dark and tanned, was pale for him.

"You should've let me take that shot for you, you dumbass," she sobs, resting her head on his arm.

"Well then who else is going to hate me as much as you do?" I tease gently. She snaps her head around and fiercely wipes the tears from her eyes.

"Why are you here?" she asks cautiously.

"I was told you could use some things," I set the duffel on the ground and hand her the paper bag full of chili. She peaks in and her face perks up a little, but then falls again. She says nothing as she stares at me, untrusting.

"Why did you wait so long…?" she asks, her face cast toward the ground. I raise an eyebrow.

"You made it pretty clear you wanted me nowhere near you," I say, almost angrily. First she wanted me far away, now she wanted me here? Could she at least make up her mind? "Plus I wasn't sure if your boyfriend was here."

Her eyes line with tears again and she turns away sharply.

"Ex," is all she says. Inwardly, I want to cheer. Outwardly, I'm confused.

"What happened?" I ask. She sighs.

"Well, it started out as him trying to get me to leave and go home. I told him I wasn't going anywhere and that he's always been there for me when I was at the edge of death," she starts.

"Okay…" I try to encourage her.

"He asked how many times that's actually happened and I had no choice but to explain my whole story, since Barney walked into Wiley's Bar four years ago. He was stunned. He asked about our history, me and you, and was pissed. Said he could never measure up to that and that he had no idea I hauled around so much baggage. Honestly? I think he was just disgusted by my life. The people that I've killed, the people that I consider my family. He hates the kind of people we are. Said he couldn't turn the other cheek anymore and stormed out," she sniffs, tossing her jet black hair over her shoulder.

"What a prick," I mutter to myself and she glares at me sharply.

"Oh come on, don't defend that. You're lucky I never told anyone about what he did to you-"

"Because he didn't technically _do_ anything, Thorn, you just wanted him gone," she mutters.

"Technically means he still did something, it's just not as bad as it could be. You're giving him too much power-"

"Does it matter? He's gone," she snaps at me. She was right, and she didn't need this right now.

"You're right. I'm sorry. About everything. Luna didn't tell me you guys split."

"No one else knows," she says simply. I was shocked she told me first, of all people. It's silent for a long time, I stand awkwardly behind her fidgeting.

"Thank you," she says suddenly.

"For what?"

"For not saying anything to anyone about what happened. It really wasn't a big deal, it just sounded bad," she sighs. My mouth twitches in annoyance because I know she's right, and part of me believes that's why I never told Barney.

"Why don't you get cleaned up and I'll keep a watch on him," I offer. She smirks at me.

"Why, do I stink?" she jokes weakly. I return her half smile.

"You could do better," I tell her. She finally laughs and rises stiffly from her chair. I could tell she hasn't moved much since she's been here.

"Thanks Thorn," she says softly as she walks past me to the bathroom. I smile at her back and take her seat.

When she emerges from the bathroom, she's towel drying her hair and her face looks less blotchy from crying. She looked worlds better. Now I just needed to see her eat.

"Here. You may want to dig in before it gets cold," I tell her and hand her the bag of food. She takes it from me and does as she's told. The second time she's surprised me. She's silent for a long time while she eats, and I'm almost surprised that she eats every bite. She must've been starving.

"Why are you listening to me for once?" I ask, only half joking. She stops for a moment, thinking.

"I feel better… with you here," she says softly. I suck in a sharp breath and rise from my chair so fast it knocks it backwards. She does the same and before I know it, she's in my arms tightly. She's clinging to me like her life depends on it, and we stay like that for a while. I don't even realize she's crying again until she speaks.

"I almost lost him, Ethan. He was dying right in front of me and I was helpless-"

"Ssh, it's okay. It's alright. He's gonna be okay," I soothe as she cries in my arms. I press my lips to her scalp, and rub her back gently.

"Will you stay?" she asks.

"Of course. Whatever you need," I tell her. I know she was only asking me to stay as a friend, but I couldn't help myself. I lean her head back and kiss her cheek softly, gently pressing my face against hers. I cup her chin softly and run my finger along her puffy bottom lip.

"Thorn…"

"I know, I know. But you should just know that no matter where I am, not matter what I'm doing, I'm thinking about it," I warn her. She nods.

"Not right now, I can't-" her voice cracks and I nod.

"I understand. But after everything we've been through, I'm allowed this," I tell her and swoop her into my arms. I sit down on the hard chair by Barney's bed and hold her to my chest. She makes herself small, almost like a child, and curls up in my lap. She nuzzles my chin and her breathing finally sounds slow and calm. I think she's gone to sleep when she shifts in my lap.

"Ethan?" she asks. I notice she only ever calls me that when we're alone and things are emotional.

"Yes?"

"Thank you," she says softly, gently pressing her lips to my cheek. I rub her back.

"Anytime." Things we're getting complicated between us, the line between a friend and more was getting murky and faded. And I wasn't sure now was the best time for that.


End file.
